Gracian Balendran

(11th of April 1985 / Sri Lanka)

Without a Trace


I am lost for words and
Don’t know what to say
Everything seems so confusing
I am so confused, I don’t even
Know where I am lost.
I search deep inside my heart
To find what is lost.
What is lost never seems to be lost
Yet what is never bound be lost seems
To be lost beyond reach.
What could have I lost anyway?
I ask myself.
Love? Money? Fame?
No one knows and no one ever will.
I get lost and I find myself,
And again I am lost somewhere else,
The sparkle in her eyes found me, yet
The pearls on her nose made me loose myself
Then smile on her lips found me, yet
In the depths of her heart I am lost,
So lost that I am never to be found again.

Submitted: Saturday, December 28, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Without a Trace by Gracian Balendran )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A Few Pieces Of Paper, Kyle Schlicher
  2. Carnal Succubus, Is It Poetry
  3. The Music Just Stops, mike scully
  4. colorful lies, Mary Amrutha
  5. Bonus post, Mae AC.
  6. My Left Hand, Kyle Schlicher
  7. The Mad Scientist Writing, Kyle Schlicher
  8. Right or Wrong, Nasarudheen.P. Parameswaran
  9. A Real Friend, Margaret Moran
  10. you're a vessel i want live on twelve mo.., Mandolyn ...

Poem of the Day

poet Wilfred Owen

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]