Alas! This lingering Ghost,
Thou canst not so boast!
In thine own self
Truly are thee engrossed,
Neglecting our hearts
Slighting our Innermost.
Through clime and years
Lives lived in fears.
Through storms and calms,
We found our balms.
Ever relenting…
Ever consenting…
And ever condescending...
Yet forever and ever...
...tormenting.
(2011-06-27 11: 57)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem