Programmed by fate and destiny,
Living with the hope of choice
For continuity,
The fallen angel,
Goes into oblivion,
With no directions, no sensations.
Love is a probability,
Living in some anomaly
Created by distorted equations
In the symphony of life.
The fallen angel rises,
From its ashes of past existence
With nowhere to go,
Except for thoughts,
Flying in search of happiness,
But somewhere it does know,
This coincidence of errors,
Is yet another chance it seems.
The fallen angel moves on,
Resurrecting itself from the clutches
Of incoherent dreams.
To embrace freedom,
Of the infinite realm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
flying in search of happiness, good write. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.