Did you not see, O yearning heart,
How pride once marched with vain command?
With banners raised and beasts of war,
A tyrant's will, a reckless stand.
Yet lo! From realms beyond our sight,
On unseen wings, the wrath took flight.
A tempest soared, a fateful tide,
That shattered boasts and humbled pride.
Not swords of men, nor warrior's hand,
But birds with pebbles, heaven-planned.
Soft as whispers, yet fierce and true,
They turned the proud to dust and rue.
So heed, O soul that towers tall,
Ask me not what the pebbles were—
They were but signs, a truth profound:
No might endures but His enthrall.
For power built on self alone
Is chaff before the winds well-known.
Let not the elephant of your will
Defy the mountain, standing still.
Lest silent wings, in fateful flight,
Reduce all strength to faded night.
— MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem