I wish I could wrap my arms
Around You
For the rest of my living,
But living without you by my side
Is an everyday hustle, trying to find
Solace in me, I loafe and lean in solitude,
Neither a word I can indite,
Or suffice to write,
Nor music or rhyme to lull on,
Instead retiring back in abeyance
Where atmosphere is not that fragrance,
We harbored for good and bad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem