Grubby clouds blemish minds
Times I have are ample of lies,
Musing through a parallel trance
Slumber ends, from the yellow shines
Oily visage begins a fable
Freshness restored with a morning sponge
Sharpness thoughts, glazing pupils
Lines of structure, in script in black
Lines of lies, in script in grey
Thoughts incline, spiraling astray
Mysteriously unknown of any prodigy
Scrawling fables in search of glory
End of margin
Miles travel unimagined
Hatred yore, toiling sorrow
What a day… another day of tomorrow
Amir & Amin
29th Jan 09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem