Under the broken bridge,
On that one silent night,
In acute misery, Rhapsodic agony,
Enraptured tunes
Which caught my ears,
I sharpened my vision
And straightened my back in attention
I listen
In stillness of the night
Tormented wind hushed,
The moon transported
With spirits to devour
The darkness in hand with black,
Who is the master and who is to judge?
Who is the spectator who is the abator?
I reason not
But it was buds of agony and ecstasy,
Of that I am sure
It was them who were making love,
On that one silent night
Under the broken bridge.
Poignant words...agony and ecstacy making love...ye; together they sustain what is called life...insightful write...thanks...10
luvvvvvvvvvvvvvv this poem........It has a deep meaning......about life as a whole
Wow! Your imagination took flight to under the bridge and your poem is sensational. Opposites attract and ignite the night! 10 Karin Anderson
Reshma why chose-- that under the broken bridge for making love --no better place? otherwise a good write anjali
if it cause the bridge to fall, wow, it must be intensity 7 :)
absolutely amazing...phenomenal at a loss of words...belongs at a higher echelon great leading light stuff cheers and ten my favs cheers
wonderful.....amazing concept...very beautiful. thank you very much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
amazing. whther happening or imagination or both? shan