Night Visitor Poem by Friday Dejavu
Night Visitor
Lost to lust,
My flesh of dust.
Desiring pleasure_
Though in torture.
Buried in pride,
My ego ride.
Seeking for a bride_
Non to chide.
Down the lane,
I fall in plane,
Slopping through_
Amidst the rough.
Frozen in ice,
I heard her voice_
Never love twice,
Lest you miss your dice.
Mother was right,
My hands is tight.
A visitor at night,
Is not worth the fight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 8:16:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
