Tired....
My mind, body and soul
Waves...Come upon me
And sweep out the mud
Of my memories
They feel like a bagful of stones
Taking me down, drowning me...
Can you see the footprints?
Of all of them who walked over me
Was I right or wrong?
Were they right or wrong?
I dont know anymore...
I just hear the wind howling
Cant you hear it?
Its trying to tell me something
I think it wants me to set out
Get lost in the desert of the ocean
Swim out to the deep recesses
Maybe that will sanctify me
Hang in there like a dead body
Seeing everything yet not seeing anything
Cocooned in there
Silent....
Unreachable...
Pure....
Its a beautiful world
Vivid, colourful
Alone
Yes, thats what
YES! I do see some footprints..... but not on your body! I just remembered a famous couplet..... Lives of great men all remind us; they leave behind them footprints on the sands of time.....
Image & metaphor are the diamonds* here, young lady...And you reach for utelise tem, so very well.... FJR
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I would indeed add more but the two before me pretty much captured it, , , , This was indeed a mediforical majesty, , , , , , , , , well done, , , , , , , ,