Days dethaw into seasons, seasons into ages brushing the tooth of creation
home of legends, home of myths, a testimony to torture
the spark of grace has provoked another voyage, and my spirit dulcet
the dancing rope of faith have i yielded to, and my reward infallible
like a shrew i have been mocked,
like the prince i am groomed
like an apteryx i have been wingless
like the judge i summon
It visits me again, the pawn with the sting of scorn
for no reason it unveils woes that i am still dust
to get even, it musters my will to the countenance of silence
that fondling day with misty eyes appears again
Is there a docket that immortalizes the existence of men?
Is there a design that nocks the timing of when one ought to exist?
How would memories defend themselves once we're obsolete?
How do you fathom the essence of life as you beseech your final sleep?
Now I know that this is merely a beginning;
Yes, the end starts from the beginning
And for all that I never could understand in the biography,
the cases of fear and doubt have reiterated into liberty
Now I ask, who made the docket?
Who marks the timings?
For whom should I bud?
Was I visited alone?
August 18,2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem