The life of mine so disgusted-I'm frustrated,
Why poison poured within me-uninterested?
Ah! The game of life so heinous that we play,
Patience vomits virtue and vice slay, slay, slay…
What kind of mud and from which planet's clay?
I lay under hopeless sun -dead split with splay.
Grief is well expressed on the web of life. Wonderfully presented. Kind of mud or clay it is well expressive in poem as sign of realization of grief or joy. Nicely penned.
Ah! The game of life so heinous that we play, Patience vomits virtue and vice slay, slay, slay…
A long and hard look at life. We must keep going forward. Bright sun at the end of the tunnel. Nice.
It is difficult to understand the game of life. The life can be accepted or challenged but confusion pulls it back. Grief is the point on mind. Wonderful writing.
Beautiful poem. Very true said, game of life is unknown, it forces one to play though one don't want to play. No choice is left other than sailing with the flow of wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so grief stricken! But for what? what is ours? life has undisputed sovereignty. let us see, feel and enjoy it.