Whatever we wish to forget
Often force into the memory
They tease, torture and fret
Poke into ash of love's glory
I never know why they sprout
From dry desert of memories
My feels again and again doubt
My intentions of forgetful stories
Who knows why my burning sighs
Pray for the long life of the fire
Yet my baseless logic of lies
Says to me I have no desire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem