I am a human, right?
The being that you met last night,
That being, has changed into a thing,
Into a pen and paper,
And everytime you write something with it,
That is when his heart beats,
That's how he survives,
That is how he lives,
I request you to be open,
To write everything you have observed about him,
His deeds and mistakes of seldom or often,
Write about what has he pursued as a man,
What has he learned from his mind's jam,
Because these are the things which will remind of being human,
What hath changed you?
From a warm summer to a frozen Dew,
Tell us, so we could write a bit about you,
The pen then uttered some ink,
On paper it's nip sinked,
Deep down in his heart, for her,
Again, some feelings blinked,
And the ink said-
'Some tears drop from my eyes,
For she is with me no more, in this demise,
And I am left alone scared,
Under the constellation, on the land bare,
Where shall I find that sun,
Which has been carried away by death and long gone,
What flowers must I water,
Whose petals have wilted and lost it's color,
Where shall I find that charm,
Where shall I go in this chilling winter to find warmth,
Inside my heart, a ship is sailing,
On it, feelings for you alone are howling,
They are calling for you,
through the dense fog of my heart,
They are just willing to give everything,
Even the ship, upon which they are sailing,
Just for your one last touch'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A simple poem that covers all, being a poet, about the love and others. Nice written
being a poet is rhyming feelings with words
Thank you.