Walking through a cemetery,
Chanced to see a tomb stone,
Only a head piece,
No grave,
No name,
Just written,
On stone with a pen,
A poet waits,
If you are the one,
Don't waste,
Lift the blanket green,
Sleep beside,
I am awaiting, alive, inside.
This poem appeals to my inner senses and I love it. A poet waits, If you are the one, this hits my mind and am not sure why exactly. Will have to think about it some more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Ruhi Shah, I don't wish you a grave, but a bed of roses, and a blanket of Jasmine. Why wait for the grave? Quote while alive. Cheers and best luck.