Nothing seems right
Your actions speak deceit
Your words conflict
Half way, through
I can see nothing new
Sparks of hope from a lit pyre
Seem dieing up in the air
Something unusual occurs
Too much to endure
I see you weren’t
The one i envision
Who fancy’s he a warrior
Fighting barred holds
To wriggle out of the door...
No escape whatsoever
He’s back tendering friends
Bound to, from head to toe
He retreats under his invisible cloak...
Repressing hungry, in solitude
But how will his quench soak?
When he explains calmly to me
Reality is his cup of tea...
Physically in bondage, though
Can’t we can all see through
Yet his weaving sightless dreams
Justifies no ability for ‘man enough’!
Your alleys lie desolately
Awaiting glorious triumph
Of warriors awakening
And immunity to be free
From awkward lechery
Happiest is me
Who builds castles of victory
For he will see daylight
And come to realize
Fruits of patience,
They bare, Evergreen
True, everlasting happiness
You have presented your poem in a nice way. The words are simple but attractive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good song for the Northern Lights Infantry of Pakistan.