The spirit was not there
under the skin―
in grey domain.
I will not seek any revenge on self.
The defeat was my solo passage.
I am still searching
myself in the crowd.
More than enough, I had my share of hurts.
Talking of the innocence
of a womb, when you were not
born. The steel in your hair
and empathy in your tongue.
A wandering sage will
not love the fall of night.
You see better in twilight. The
shadows give an illusion of angels.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem