Our lives are ruled by destinies,
So we are fated, all trussed up!
If we are intended to end into a spider's web,
So be it, we are done for!
But it is a scam, a scare from some sick mind
to rule the waves of some people's lives.
To make fake history,
It makes cowards of us all!
Mind, heart, decision and choice are still there!
Still now and then we are shaken by some unwelcome occurrences
That trigger devastating effects
That makes us stop
And ask, if there is any sense in living?
Sit down and surrender to your fate
And the grave inches irretrievably nearer:
This is the pinch of reality,
Man was not made to loiter foolishly,
But to dare and fight,
to discover and map out his own destinies,
To raise the curtains of new horizons!
The more we win, the harder the hurdles!
Some break, and make a sordid disaster of life.
It had poured all day,
Rancorous gusts of winds and rain,
When finally I arrived at the hospital,
My wife was in the last throes of a cancerous nightmare.
She was never intended to come back home with me.
Long past midnight,
Tired, I left her bedside.
Soaked, lying on a drenched bench,
Her bare feet in the rain,
Her hair loose, flying and tangled,
Was a woman about forty, sleeping;
A drunken and feverish slumber,
An empty bottle of mixed cider and beer on the flloor!
Was that real?
A rankling tragedy,
My wife dying upstairs!
And I cried,
Not for her, but for that woman!
I have never hated anyone in my life,
but on that disturbed night, grippedby a massive storm of sickness
bitterness and revolt I hated life, I hated everyone,
I hated this bloody worldand I hated God for being so heartless!
Here was a woman who wanted to die
But could not
And my wife who wanted to live,
And could not.
Weird reality, a place where life and death meet!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem