Life gets stuck in a numerous ways
And all directions lead to darkness
When the sunshine gets blocked by
the left over layers of mist
And your identity gets hazy in the
dress of dust
The heart is the devil who never
let us forget
The miseries we suffered, the pains
undertaken
The repentance and regret of the
wrong decisions made
The memories of love who is no
more the same
The harsh winds when blow shakes
your soul
The feeling is so numb so close to
death
But the heart keeps going and forces
you to tolerate
All the weary and torn things of the
rest
It never gets over whatever may happen
Something is there which is always
left...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Indeed the devil heart
Yes maybe....