Rookie (25 JUNE 1980 / KOTTAKKAL)


Blue River flows down the center,
either side of the banks,
wrapped in snow,
in an tiny blossoms;
a bottle is swimming
as alone I.
The soul that take off
wither and dies, who loosing sleep;
your open heart on the open sea
dreaming, as terrible clouds;
it is falling, by my crude mind.
Never were strength, to sin
met high, on going lane.
The happiness of destined
bubbly of as a clouds.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 24, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 1, 2011

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