I could hide away,
Ensconced in the shrouds of
And in the cities past these walls
Of poetry and language that you cannot decipher
And should I emancipate myself,
From the ghastly apparition embodied by
The torments of my past yielded entrapments
Adjacent to the torn and cleaved landscape of memories
Behind these barricades,
Of phonetics and alphabets
Lissome and bold with nomenclature of sinning angels
Angels wearing anguished faces and wings in shrivels
And so in this night,
Cutting the gardens of the ardent twilight
Shall I reminisce the days in the sunlight’s kiss
Where I held you in my arms like towers
And my eyes, beacons in the highway
And sentries in the forests of your mishaps,
Shall I burst in the azure like fireworks
Dying in the eve of one’s absolution
Lead me back, I reckon the days that you were mine
Under the haze of the infinite skyline,
Thus we revel in the nostalgia of waves and currents
And we kissed under the piercing rain
For now I shall fondle my mind,
With thoughts of you and the vestige once laid
In the treason of emotions lasting in a spec of time
I will think of you, darling, like the bitter wine sweet on your skin
In the days that you were mine,
Do you remember how I shouted?
Across the treetops and facades that I own you,
In the world were billion people fall in and out of place
Now I tremble,
And fumble in my words
For I have scarcely forgotten your face,
Neglect is a million miles away from my desire
Stringing abbeys,
Forged in the abeyance
And the fancy graves embossed with names
Your breath fans the enraged flame
And the life of a lover,
Left in the noontime somber of
Dreams and aspirations to become one,
Effortlessly thwarted by fate or coincidence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem