Seems like it is my last day,
Seems I'm burning in thousand suns;
Seems like someone closed all the way,
And I've no medicine for my paining burns.
I may quit writing this poem,
As it is a crime for humanity;
Sharing pain throws you out of the heaven,
And it will snatch away your dignity.
My tears are falling,
Like a leakage in a water tank;
The devils are laughing,
On my scorecard which kept blank.
I targeted just one aim,
Which was too high;
I forgot I was born insane,
And every target will pass me by.
I've lost my interest in life,
As I've no work here to do;
I'm in search of the sharpest knife,
And I don't wanna waste my life in the brood.
The brood of a mission unaccomplished,
The brood of my house being brighten;
I've lost my dream of something that was always in my list,
The dream of being an IITian.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem