The clocks ticking a quarter after three,
rolling on my bed and thinking out loud,
will my enthusiastic brain becomes free,
from my restless as well as vibrant mind.
For every night there's a morning after,
will I ever see tomorrow, the day,
the horizon that lies beyond further,
thinking about you and keeps me at bay.
I know love, maybe tomorrow will come,
I hope like you hope that the sun will rise,
giving hope and encouragement to some,
just like the budding of a thorny rose,
Which foresee and forecast 'beauty' ahead,
like the songbird at dawn singing aloud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excitement and hope are well juxtaposed in this nice sonnet!