I was entering the place..
The place where worships are made..
Things are ordered to superiors..
Where even richest are beggers..
Where tingling of bell break the silence..
I planned things I'll ask to my superior..
I think I need them the most
I love them the most …
I want them to the core …
Eventually I was stucked..
A girl staring at me …
She was beautiful.. a lot beautiful
As if my superior himself made her..
My eyes stopped blinking and
This time I was staring … full of love..
But what's this ….
To win something we have to loose something
She was too beautiful
But her limbs..
Ya! ! they don't work..
She had limbs … beautiful limbs..
But no nerves to make them work..
She ruined my plans..
And I could ask nothing from my superior..
Just for her cure..
As those were what I think was important..
But there are people who badly need my superior..
I left my god for them..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem