White lotus at red feet:
we will start self-infliction
explicating
with regrets.
After a rough night
the day was weeping.
From where the bread will
come, when you were playing
with a golden spoon.
This morning I again
dig a hole in heart.
Was the Mayan calender right?
Why the sun is playing slow music?
I am coming nearer
to a locked god.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this poem conveys a very strange yet powerful message.....great write....so true and sophihistical poem, , thanks for sharing