The river is no more,
No flood, no splash, no roar;
A solitary portion, a king missing his throne
Kowtows to bemoan the hard fate that left him forlorn.
The praises have ceased,
Joy and dreams... deceased;
Hearts that once sung with zest followed the birds to the west
Where the sun shines best and potency is confessed.
In life's final lap,
Useless is your trap,
No gay yarns for excited ears nor tissue for cheery tears;
The end of affairs often times doom declares.
Yet, in the stillness,
In love's loud silence,
Listen, listen and you will hear your heart beat a tune so dear,
Bringing back to you cheer and making fears disappear.
Be good at loving,
Be good at loving;
Love yourself first before for others you grow a thirst.
If this rule is reversed, when they leave you'll feel so cursed.
Awesome piece...Be good at loving...love yourself first.... I love it
beautiful write. you are right indeed, first love yourself. loved your write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great piece there, the length of the lines creates the atmosphere of our slowly depreciating life. Love yourself first before for others you grow a thirst