Cleverly hidden in Cemetaries of yesteryear?
Cobwebbed Tombstones of regret?
Grown up wild with weeds untamed
Lay dying in the western sunset!
Crumbling stones of mis-matched family?
Whose heirloom trees were bent?
Found a lone red rose-wilted
Upon the cracks of ill-intent!
Building for anything hurtful?
It's death will come with failures spent
Dust to dust with malice riding
In the graveyards of todays mal-contents!
(Dedicated To: Chris Bowen* and His Leader****)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem