And there stopped everything, every roads
A ghastly flow of wind, with fiery swords
Bloods crawl up, bones heaped over
Half of the day gone, clouds began greyer.
Twilight masked above, few stories told
The end wafted, all gods are sold
A parrot is caged, from the windows horizon bleed
All the udders dried, mama make me feed.
The heave is on, grazers munches slowly
Amidst the wilderness, everything is only
Those early budders, in the quiet garden
A whisper is heard, silence crushed all of a sudden.
Feeble souls merry, banquets sprawled out
That black sailor, moored his canoe and shout
“When sea mingles, horizon shakes a little
Every drop spills, every fate becomes brittle.”
nothing is going to end, just beginning, going deep we can feel, okay, good write, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A strained strain of worthlessness make the thread of this poem.Its sense and rhyme are attractive.