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Strangers from incident, lies for distance, pitfalls of living infrequent, Rushes of sympathy pass over like fever sweat. In concurrent motion the wolves swarm on the lifeless carcass. Impending emotions fill the hole in my stomach, my chest continues to
I’ll let you know some things if I may, Like a captor addressing a prisoner to be. Words like ropes that do not fray, I am locking you in my poetry. It is selfish of me to hold you like
Of splendid thrones of gold or treasures manifold Of jewelled caskets or lavish banquets Of Emirs and rajahs Of Sultan and Shahs Of kings and queens Of rulers and emperors Of sparkling crowns or flowing gowns Of their subservient stewards
Momma! I am your poem. From that mountain hole Too many pains left And from the island of the vexation A little pleasure on the journey twinkle They made a missiles I was fabricated just below your heart And I am
The boys are bathing in the river, The scene I will forget never, They are jumping and playing in the water, It is a joy forever. Every moment the calm ripples are coming to them, They are breaking those in
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