I've been waiting for a thousand times,
And achieved so my rhymes.
I've travelled so far a thousand miles,
And held my patience,
Just to know that I've wasted a million smiles.
I reminisce in those sleepless nights,
Our most memorable sights,
Countless times I endured my happiness against the disbelief.
But tolerating his terrible attitude in the name of love is my relief.
I do believe that "Love is loving an imperfect person perfectly."
Yes, though I've never seen him imperfectly.
I'd rather fall for his meaningless smiles and winks;
Than his sinful smirks which for me ever stinks.
To speak beyond your heart is cruel,
And faith of using your confessions to speak is a fuel.
To ride in an endless trip behaving on your seat;
Is worse than falling while waving your hand in a bottomless pit.
Later on, after exploring my realizations,
Like before, I tried making conversations.
And as I shout, expectations are twin of disappointments.
I was such a wasteful child conceived with excitement.
I remembered that falling in love,
Just started with a simple bet;
Bet of statements lied from the fact and tongue.
Just a joke in the start,
But time for me is the greatest art,
A creation which heals, reliefs, comforts;
And most of all which hurts.
Incomparable pain which I wanted now,
To bury into the deep of all the earths.
Love has always been blind,
But eternal is not consumed for a missing love to find.
In the end, there's still be,
The man that you want to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem