Madness, never ending jaded,
Played by cunning and knaves, faded,
Who cannot bear world’s happiness,
They see method mad in this ugliness.
Killing the people is their pleasant season,
Nothing but horror and fear is their reason,
Founded and guided by dreaded selves,
Happy are those who are far away from such wolves.
Far away from their goals,
Hiding in safe bushes and caves, killing moles.
Children of envy and lower gods,
With no light of the day, growing toads,
To brand this ugliness unblemished,
Is the world of wolf and jackals diminished.
FROM:
DR. YOGESH SHARMA
E-mail- yogesh_krsharma@yahoo.com
You have eloquently brought out the horrors of terror in this poem...good write
Expressing in a brief and eloquent way.......yu have made it to think. Who is going to hear.
you've expressed it greatly through this poem! bravo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i liked the way you had the beggining stanzas ryme. Powerful and inspiring.