No chance hope resides here.
While we all lay rotting like twigs,
In a forlorn jungle of doubts, and fears.
Forever haunted by joyous memories
of distant times when we lived.
No chance the coconut tree dances
with the same vigor it once did
When we were younger, and smiled
Under the golden sunset awaiting friends,
Long flown away forming pearls
and diamonds that guide a tired sailor.
No chance of sacred salvation
For these tired bones so rocked
needing ethereal benevolence that n’er comes.
While I sit in a darker pew,
Reverent to tears in solemn expectation.
Walking the fool’s path so narrow,
And yet; I still thread for grace’s sake,
Even though there isn’t any chance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Even though there isn’t any chance. nice one...10 hen also we carry on.. nice poem