I was thinking that day,
Why the punishment
For truth.
Why is it so
The imbalance,
Still,
Remains balanced
Between the truth
And the false pride.
I ran to thee God
To ask a question.
I searched for Him
Day and night,
And,
In everything that was might.
Finally i lost my patience
And,
I lost everything.
I still tried hard
Then my soul answered back.
The truth about imbalance,
The deeds of men
And thy destiny
All played with men.
You pose the Miltonic question to which he got the answer: They also serrve who only stand and wait. CP
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
All unanswered questions become excuses for one's destiny-well said.