O God, it is broken, scattered, smoked and rusted now,
It has lost your determined melody, chunk & rhyme;
Yes, for wellness, to do something it seems the high time,
So tell my comrades, not to take it as my false & feared vow.
On rhyme it was a denced discussion with yout art manager Muse,
I asked, 'Are you happy with our verses almost prosaic? ',
She says, 'If you feel good with your son severely sick',
Thus she lifts me from conflict and confusion huge.
The Muse detects a mighty hole in the society's shade,
By it terrorists, dirty leaders are entering as bees to their cells;
And all th' countries are gradually getting red Hells,
So for a mender this hymn is to You on our head.
Now, for the crack when shall You employ the mender?
With smile, may we hope that the time is yonder?
©sk Nurul Huda fo r 'So ngs Of 47'.
Sonnet is almost an extinct animal now-a days. Very very tough indeed. Sometimes I tried but not satisfied. However good piece of writing.Though I'm not fully satisfied. Yet 7 for you.
thank you very much...you are right......really it is tough to continue the emotion to a conclusion I am really glad and happy you read it and comment.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Society. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.