When think of ill of others
Your soul is contaminated
It goes far away from God
And is never illuminated
Ill thought is an infection
Spreads quickly to others
You are prone to downfall
And lose all your features
Your mind is busy in tricks
And becomes like a bog
Your creativity is trapped
Your soul is draped in fog
Your illness is on extremity
When you fall in frustration
This is the end of humanity
You face inner humiliation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem! I love your illuminating thoughts. 'Ill thought is an infection Spreads quickly to others You are prone to downfall And lose all your features' - Very well said!