Cringing down the days
As the feast commences
Gulping time over Life,
To live a saint silhouette,
While the birth of death
Heals, limping faster
Lurking it's trajectory wings.
We wing and flee,
But far, not yet
The sun awaits us
To unriddle the wax
Settling into nothingness,
And harder shall we fall
Into the berth of death.
Kakoli Choudhury
©®
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nicely crafted one with unparalleled lines.... congrats! With best wishes pc