'Seek ye all you like, but vain be, thy strife,
Pray all you can, for that is, but life.'
The truth filled eyes, bear not, I can
So very far away, therefore I ran.
'Vain, Vain' is all I can hear,
Pain, pain caused, many a tear,
A wounded heart heals, they say
but, that I think is never to be.
Crushed from within, I cry aloud
to which even the red wood, bowed,
tears do flow, like rivers, perennial
My soul, now is dead, lifeless, ethereal
The truth when heard, in such crude form
takes away smiles, like the desert storm,
How am I, a child, so young,
Going to bear, of grief, such burden?
Swaying free, I transport myself back,
Forgetting all, my precious dreams,
Shattered are they, my preserved hope,
Nothing is left of this child, heartless, mope;
Who has right to take away joy,
Who has dominion over free souls,
Why am I being judged so soon,
Why should only MY cup be, with holes?
Is this perseverance, that maketh me strong,
Or is it just fate, unfair and wrong.
Hopelessly I stare about, for none, to care
Revolting is not a choice, since I lack the Dare.
'Death', it is I, who call upon you,
I do have need, it's completely true,
Why won't you take pity, on an insignificant germ?
Come to my rescue, come, I end my term....
I hear a knock, on the door, west,
In the school of dead, have I passed the test?
Swings the door, bringing guilt inside,
'Alright, Alright', I heard, 'To you, I lied'
'There is faith, there is hope,
don't be down or you'll face slope.
I give you what you lost, Oh! So awfully you moan.
Take, I return to you, your stupid, 'Mobile Phone'! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem