I alone
shall sit
on emporor's seat
and bleed my pen
for these young ones
I shall tell them
of this side
and that other,
The tears on this
and the laughter of that
I shall trek with them
i in reverse,
and together
we shall walk
each step,
each thought,
that comes with every breath
we shall explore,
each dark silence
as dark corners too
I shall envision in them
the ticking clock
and the time stood still
the days counted
eagerly
waiting..
minutes over cooking pot
that never boils,
and
days of dusty pots
I shall tell them
of a light in the tunnel
and the final feel
of the emporor's seat
then i ask
will that be ever
or will it forever
be that..
a dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem