The day gone with tranquilities,
The night is to quite chirps of birds,
Longing shadows,
To rule the events,
Erupting tears from depths,
Over the blood from veins,
Hope is pushed to walls,
Big bray of time,
Shaking the tides of moments, who is to take care of,
New born moon,
Evils grow from swamps,
Of ugly greed.
This brawl of few hours,
Knocks out the revenges,
And makes to think the minds,
By skipping wilfully,
and closing both eyes,
Entering the nexct day,
With both feet.
Hope is pushed to walls, Big bray of time, Shaking the tides of moments, who is to take care of, New born moon, A sequence of events controls the moods...don't despair and keep walking on the ground of earth looking at the dark sky...moon and stars glow in memory of our loved ones who are no more with us on the ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautifully penned the fact! truely poetic! 10+