Nobody is confirmed.
You are what you are
I am what I am.
And it is not sure
Nothing is pure.
We all are on the same way
The sky is the check gate on this way.
nothing is permanent for sure. Everything is always revolving into something else. good write
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the depth and misery of human existence encapsulated so brilliantly in few lines of pure poetry.