Purpose Poem by nimal dunuhinga
Purpose
I have a fear of my unseen boss whose whisper like a hiss
I hear whenever I pass the rivers edge.
Really I do not understand the dialect but I believe it's like my deceased loving mother's advice; 'Please take care of yourself my mischievous son and remember well there is a purpose on this paralytic journey.'
I response with a shivering to my faraway masterful creator;
'I am innocent like a litmus paper; turns red by acids and blue by alkalis.
Please let me scribble on this mystery Earth until they finish the reading.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/27/2026 10:53:52 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
The prayer of all true poets, I think. To be allowed to put pen to paper until their own personal sun goes down., Excellent write, Nimal. Always your friend, Sandra