So, I found it late,
My proper gratitude to Fate
And whatever, He is keeping me alive to this date,
For I am yet to be late
Nor was mysoul on a silver plate.
Seeing the night in its purest built;
Dark from pole to post in its precious guilt
How it haul all in into its cold and priceless quilt
When pain feels like is pig in filth!
Who dares defines this to Duality?
Yet now I move towards sleep
Thoughts holding my mind on grip
Good God! In darkness let me be
As I take my corner in this Abyss
And when morrow calls I plea to see
The Old fool called Sun waiting on me-
Darkover, but tonight
In darkness let me lie
And cry
In its beauty don't let me die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Really great poem, like it. A great write. May i invite you to read my new poem called, Evil Rising.