I know the affection I show is not love
And the lines I write is not poetry
In-between the gap of Hell and Heaven
One is infatuation other is my immaturity.
But hold on; bear with me for a while
I am on the way and getting my cell
Baked on the sun and soaked in the river
The mold, I believe, will never make us fail.
Diamond is found in a mine of dark coal
A poet's love is found hanging in a tree, date
The beak of time will prick the stream
And I will be lovers' poet that is my fate.
Afailed poet is not a great lover as they say
But a failed lover is always a great poet
Here I stand in-between option and choice
But I'll conquer both as my love's inspiration is great.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem