Words are evolving in
Labyrinth the wrong channel
Nothing is spared to see
In the dust of the art gallery
Nothing is spared to know
In all genre of arts
I sit unmindfully
In the little attic of sense
My streets, my world are red-blue lamps
I flow in the shivering lights of shackles
My streets, my world are red-blue lamps
I flow in the shivering lights of shackles
My crying is the lonely night
Thinking over wrong and right
Lonely Voyager of the spring
Make me drowned and make me flown
The smashing of morn and evening
Make me feeble and so tiring
I'm engulfed I'm shattered
A thousand hurdles make me boring
Fly the errors in your skies
Set me in all darkness
I'm eternal in my line
All will be lost on the world of mine
though alone; but- I'm eternal in my line/// superb poetic expression
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Moheen. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.