When My Chariot Comes Poem by Palitha Ranatunge

When My Chariot Comes



I throw away my sword
removing old armour of metal
bending on my worn out knees
to hear you, the birds
to feel you, at my ears the soft blow of wind, while gazing at a sunset beautiful.
I wonder, when my chariot comes!

Friday, January 19, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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Palitha Ranatunge

Palitha Ranatunge

Gampaha, Sri Lanka
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