Gathering the ashes
Of my charred thoughts
I poked with hope to get
A speck of flame;
Poisoned peccadilloes littered
My canvass of guilt tainted
Inglorious moments;
The hurried paces reverberates
In the thin wafer
Of a diabolically unripe mind;
I felt to get up and fell again
And juggled my feckless heart;
The grimly silent life trudges on
To be sucked up by its stultified end.
Copyright @Tiku 24/09/2015
Verily, hope and endurance are the integral part of our struggling trials of life
You are right Sir. That is what forced me to write this poem. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dark and dramatic, compelling and powerful imagery.
Feeling honored. Thanks for giving time to this poem.