Treasure Island

Venkateswaran Krishnan Sreenivasan

(JULY 14,1935 / ERNAKULAM, KERALA, INDIA)

A supplication


I pray for some rest on the lap of the Lord
To see a ray of light in the horde
To lead me always on the path of truth
To wake me up from slumber and sloth

To see things as they really are
To look into my inward and afar
To be at peace and not at war
With what happens here or beyond the star

May the evil melt like snow before the sun
And the morning rose waft its scent on the dawn
And the sweet air bring peace and fun
And keep the stinking evil on the run.

Our hearts are like glaciers hardened by time
By the impact of ghastly inhuman crime
Of man to man bringing beasts to shame
Let peace be on earth to sing God’s chime.

Submitted: Thursday, December 19, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A supplication by Venkateswaran Krishnan Sreenivasan )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. KEEP AWAY FROM MY BRIMMING BOWL, Om Chawla
  2. I Seen, Jose Torres Junior
  3. I Seen..., Jose Torres Junior
  4. Duet, John deVries
  5. Chuh, John deVries
  6. Blurry, Jose Armando Guzman
  7. Salome (Rubiyat sonnet), Gert Strydom
  8. See everything pure, gajanan mishra
  9. When I hold you tightly against me, Gert Strydom
  10. the gramophone record, Somanathan Iyer

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]