O love don’t be so proud
Come down from the cloud
Waiting you with open arms
Missing your warm palms
Remembering the joyous times
Rhymes and sensuous climes
When they passed on arms
Strange feeling alarms
How much love you showed
How many times we bowed
I stopped you with a tug
Aspiring to with you hug
We embraced so tight
The soul did feel a sprite
But those days have gone
Now I am all alone
feeling of loneliness is the breeding opertunity for a poet. rather you try to cultivate love within yourself behind the fathomless pits of dailyness. poetry is with you. you rather personify her to love and to be loved as a muse. clouds are of far reach. hang those images. apoet bangla
If warm palms could touch a loner's heart? Akram, Really sad but it's very hard to fulfill a love?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the tone is quite sad but may you find happiness....