Yoke Poem by Cyriac Maliakkal
Yoke
He was at ruling time,
it evaporated by destiny.
Senses had done a snow job.
And very glad to meet the faces.
He felt from the varanda and
His body touched the earth.
Body turned into left side;
He wept but not cried.
He laid on the bed for a long
years.
Men wrote a matter of
Destiny
He is not be awaked.
Thundered that little spirit.
Obliterated to his tiny of
Tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/30/2024 3:07:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
