Cut me into pieces and sell,
If I am to any use.
Maybe the almighty too would deny,
I took birth.
Admistly the fairytale,
Turning into a giant.
A giant that gulps everything,
Helpless of heart.
Probably love exists,
But some people don't perceive.
Probably hatred doesn't exist,
But that's what I receive.
Probably my words are unsaid,
But they carry literate meaning.
And though some people are mortal,
They are still admired.
Maybe you are a fan,
Maybe you exist.
Only for yourself I suppose,
Cause selfish are the rest.
I roam around me,
A wasteful piece though.
For tears may come and they may go,
But I remain hurt forever.
Forever doesn't exist child,
It's just a merry saying.
Happening to the world is disaster,
Wherever land the destiny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Sejal. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.