For the rose will wither and die,
And soon before the time of goodbye,
Beg and cry aloud to the sky.
Never got the chance to lie in princess’s arms
Or welcome a soldier in décor of warmth.
Alone in futility,
Wilder than any of thee.
Petals fall, leaves as well
But selfish thorns,
Lingered, cloaked as protective soul.
(Sept.28,2010 Doha Qatar)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem