Guard the fist with another fist,
To foot the blame drifts so as to assist;
The fighting boasts, it treats, it mends
And resurrection created promise that sends
A message to the layers of the soul,
The being of a created one, in his bowl.
To befit the times we have begotten a kind
That dissolved the youth and its mind.
It was a company of strangers too much in peace,
That is how we differ in us, this is the centerpiece.
My actions have a crease, it spoilt me,
Where I prayed for some time and got to see.
This prayer is void as the cosmos
When I worshipped for someone close.
The encounter I experienced was mad,
I have to face the hairy scene as the sad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a fist for a fist, makes the whole world bruised :)