A night with a drunk ghost,
A journey into the dark forests of hope.
A wait for the one who shall descend from the thin air
Into the flimsy images of an airy existence.
The dreary night unfolds; into the lap of nothingness,
The exotic aroma of time; enwraps the numb senses,
It is the love for the one beyond existence,
It is the love for what is beyond senses.
Drunk am i in the wine of its apparition,
Drunk shall i want to be in its esoteric mirages...
Intoxication of it not being there....
Submerges the anticipation of it being here.
But when?
Here shall i wait, never wanting it to come;
Here shall i stand, for it to find me waiting.
Wow....This poem is so surreal...Beauty in the unmanifested....Love with a vision....Thrill in the waiting.... TO
The anticipation and wait captured superbly in this poem! Preets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its a drink with a cup of joy......a tantaliser titillating, a teaser titivating