Playing on the flute, gently holding the instrument
Eyes half closed, in a trance or a kind of enchantment.
Oblivious to the presence of all loved ones around
Perhaps in conversation with someone lost, not found.
A precious soul mate, who without giving reason, forsake,
Could one turn so cruel, pay no heed to the heart break.
Love is meant to nourish and nurture and bring rapture
Here sat my cousin, with a soul in torment, fractured.
It’s in the genes, or an imbalance of hormones,
To be split in two, pronounced the neuro surgeon.
Knowledge has limitations… why does the spirit
Hover between moments of coherence, I wonder as I sit.
No one heard any sound of a cry, as tears had dried.
But is it humanly possible to forever hide behind a lie.
At times it seems there is a smile and a light on the face.
Giving a glimpse of what once was… illusion, no trace.
Mother’s eyes flicker with hope as she watches her son,
Awaits evil spirits departure and hug her with recognition.
A life of promise, gone waste... today at sixty, ravage of time
in and out of asylums, before spring manifest...autumn arrive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem