I dont know where my pen falls weak,
Where do it become stronger.
I know, its sparkling now,
Aside of numerous visions.
Voice in me narrates definitions,
What give life to unliven words.
My pen blinking upon luminous lights,
Spread all across lifeless dreams.
What do the books of heaven unwritten,
Immortal its divine fortunate presence.
What do pre-heat summers have on windows,
Of values varying with varying possessions.
What cannot end with ending time,
And what time cannot determine the end.
What promises did ends undefined,
And what dearest of mine have driven misery.
In the deepest of crisis above reality,
What talks do borrow happiness.
What splits, what makes in seconds,
What may flew, beyond the verge of distinction.
No comments:
Post a Comment