Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Life, the Thrill of Infatuation

 

What you had yesterday that
I have today and what
I have today 
That must be yours tomorrow. 
We have been made
Solely to perform on stage
 In well and woe. 
Just think...
What if we were not born?
We'd not feel the 
Gentle touch of mother, 
The sweet
Fragrance of flower, 
The appearance
Of the sun,
The delectable call of fountain, 
And the taste
Of our paradisiacal earth.
 But today we have 
All together in compact.
Still Time will come 
To take all away. 
He needs no permission at all.
All possessions must be 
Like dust in the storm.
Our stone like body will remain
Under the jolly sky, 
On the motherly 
Ground around the sweet smells. 
But how much pain
When we'll wish to 
Have them all to quench
The heavy hearts but fail.
I can't hold...I can't hold...
More painful when 
Dear mother will say, 'O my gold, 
Wake up! Wake up!' 
And I can't get up even if 
I understand her motherly voice.

real life

◄ The Song of Beauty

Beauty in Ugliness ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message