Broad like the daylight,
Dark as the day slowly passing by, The cry of the heart,
Stopping time to time.
The garb of joy it bears,
Wrapped in the loom the world
likes to see;
Might avert the gaze
If the cover was to reveal.
Reveal, what lies beneath; Unspoken sorrows,
And limtless agony.
Then He turns the wheel,
The stage cast changes.
The spotlight hits those dark places.
The push you get
From the cheering crowd,
Few hands are the trumpets of clamor,
Praying in the crowd.
The zeal to go on having, rekindled;
Started mending the aching soul.
Smearing the dregs of courage,
To the shredded canvas, Awaiting a new morning With the daylight of Hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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