Last night
I started up
With a suppressed shriek,
Shuddering in shock
Envisioning
You –
A shapeless rock
Falling far down
Into a shadowy abyss
Reserved for
Unquiet souls.
My tears streamed senseless
As if I could already see
Your crushed crown
Crumbling into crystals
Of murky splendour
And the crimson brine
Swelling out slowly
Into a liquid carpet
Fit to save
A million mortals
From an anaemic end.
But you fell,
Heedless of hell,
Hating to be helped
Hopelessly unkempt
And above all,
Having in gravity
A friend at your call.
Interesting write Gargi, well expressed piece of wisdom best wishes Jon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nicely done, I have met people like that who do not want any one to help them even when they are headed for a fall...T