The tale has ended
yes, over it is over
images they play
they steal your presence of mind
and enter the domains of sleep
what aches?
what aches when you miss?
when an ant misses
do we care?
when a hen misses the cock
or its chickens, who cares?
when the world misses
its kith and kins, who cares?
when my heart misses
a beat and more
and suffers in the absence
of a knowing presence
I am sad
I sigh
gloomy days
wintered emotions
frozen feelings
I walk limping
wish to steal some smiles
could watch all lives busy
I feel sorry
I am turning dead
begging aid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem