Walking along gloomy paths
Of myriads sad poems-
Erupting Inside my heart,
With triads of erotic notes
Fading into one,
There appeared
The reflection
Of a face,
I have been after
For all these years.
As I walked a bit closer,
It appeared to be
A mere reflection
Of a pale face of
The fallen angel from
The western sky,
On the mute, white water
Of the pond-
Sweetened with the
Sorrowful childhood,
Somewhere near the
The solitary ivory temple
Where pious hymns of
Premature birth
Are sung like
Silent mirrors of truth.
Where pious hymns of Premature birth Are sung like Silent mirrors of truth. Love the poem so so much. 10+++++
Somewhere near the The solitary ivory temple Where pious hymns of Premature birth Are sung like Silent mirrors of truth. Greatly artistic poem. 10++++.
Sweetened with the Sorrowful childhood, lovely line, thanks.
Where pious hymns of Premature birth Are sung like Silent mirrors of truth. A beautifully crafted poem. Thanks for the sharing. 10 for it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a set of lovely lines enriching the poem! There appeared The reflection Of a face, I have been after For all these years. Loved the creation sir. 10++++