I hate, hate, hate.... and still hate
Sans any lucidity on why or whom or what
Still I hate, knowing no reasoning
May be........... just a kind of feeling
I hate your smile, reminisced crocodile tear
Felt skin and flesh ripping, was your stare
The warmth so very rare, even I hate, for it grilled
And burned me, every time I desired to be poignant
Hate your body contact that bruised me pitilessly
I hate your crusty touch which pinched me ruthlessly
And most of all, I hate your love, for it ignited every row
I hate your soul in entirety, for what it looks now
I drape all those hates within my own-self
For the failure in me to know early enough
who really was within your-self
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Within my own-self! Thanks for sharing.