Bonfire Poem by Ankur Beohar
Bonfire
The mellowed imagery of a rustic saint
In the beaconing moon of the past
A mirror surmising the destiny of a man
And hurricanes that are bound to last
In the center of all this, an earnest midget
Looking bright eyed onto the stars
Where did I fall I wonder!
There is a future, there is present
And there alight barks of a dying tree
There is a song and and some music
And the designs to set me free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 12:22:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
