Every now and then I get a glimpse of
What can it be meant,
A free zone to my pen.
At the moment next,
To the eternal darkness
I close to my self.
It was then in the darkest corner,
I hatched upon the edge of spears;
I saw
My pen bleeds.
Over the white, red spread
I felt my words smelling blood.
An unreleased word!
An interrupted revolution!
Here lies,
The frozen blood
Of
My pen.
Epitaph:
We are tired, yet
We are not bound.
3 അഭിപ്രായങ്ങൾ:
That is because the very next moment you close yourself. then what you see is only a wishful dream and naturally the revolution lies frozen!
in that context the epitaph simply negates.
Yet promising.
:-)
നന്നായി അരുണ്, കുറച്ചു പേരെ ഉള്ളു ഇംഗ്ലീഷില് എഴുതുന്നെ, ജുനൈതിനെയേ കണ്ടിട്ടുള്ളൂ, ബൂലോകത്തില്, സന്തോഷം
ഒരു അഭിപ്രായം പോസ്റ്റ് ചെയ്യൂ