Tragedy is when a hero falls,
Not from fighting for his cause, but of old age
A demise of reason, a slow perish of a thought
That once started a revolt built by
Hate, is fed by years of need and envy,
As it can't stand on its own
To live on, is too sad a word that brings
Grief, a lingering feeling towards the death of
Love is not a word that expresses deep desire,
But one that brings more meaning to the word
Loss, can be measured in so much as
A life lived vicariously through a memory
Of a me that has long past,
Of a me that has been forcefully buried to welcome wisdom
Is a simple life of words and meanings to no end…!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem