My friend forced me to write a song for him
And he said; ' I'll take a guitar and a flute only.'
I write but who knows whether he accepts or not?
Oil and water in a jar
I mixed together until my fingers get burned.
Yes it's mixed but not for a long.
Gradually it's segregated like the body and soul.
Though we are one,
One day we separate each other
And he who knows the story further?
A song need not be sung aloud to be heard. The music translates from one discerning soul to another. Mysterious journey. Thought provoking write. Always your friend, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your share your wisdom with clarity and originality, Nimal. Your oil and water may not mix, but they certainly make pretty music together. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥