Mornings are short,
Days seem late,
Dark nights tread,
The moon awaits.
Summer imposters April,
Flaky like a chameleon,
The plateaus are wet,
While clouds downpour.
The startled sunken lives,
Fidget for shelter
Searching for kindness,
In hell of a rat hole.
Ways get lost,
In the blink of an eye,
Destination unknown,
Missed the train of fortune.
Swimming the ocean,
Of mighty tides I found,
Wishing to stay afloat,
I refuse to drown.
When the odyssey ends,
There's one way to drift,
A long forgotten voyage,
The one we call home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem