Mohammad Ahmad
01-20-2014, 03:28 AM
I burnt my papers to be just ash
The fire tongs is as if her eyelash
My burner flaring up inspiring my soul
All of my green wood becomes ash.
Many years a go eagerly I wait your love
As a shadow, it comes disdainful over the years
To whom I complain but alas
As an orphan stands at doors
Asking but stays fatherless
Distress pulls me forth and back
Nothing I remember but the tyrant face
Sorry my matter is a pink coloured eye
It would be thriven yearly over my crops.
And the bird gratefully will eat
And the ears would have promising wheat
My legend is just a pick of silvery guitar
Time passed and it still cheers
What a destiny grumbles on my door!
Yet it sloshes the water I drink
To be slime over the foliage I tread
To touch my solfege dallying as a brat
To consume my sorrow I would rove
Looking to the stars yet it is dark
But the moon gives me a new dance floor
Its purple lamp agitates my dawn
And my birds come again
To cheep cheerfully at my door
The fire tongs is as if her eyelash
My burner flaring up inspiring my soul
All of my green wood becomes ash.
Many years a go eagerly I wait your love
As a shadow, it comes disdainful over the years
To whom I complain but alas
As an orphan stands at doors
Asking but stays fatherless
Distress pulls me forth and back
Nothing I remember but the tyrant face
Sorry my matter is a pink coloured eye
It would be thriven yearly over my crops.
And the bird gratefully will eat
And the ears would have promising wheat
My legend is just a pick of silvery guitar
Time passed and it still cheers
What a destiny grumbles on my door!
Yet it sloshes the water I drink
To be slime over the foliage I tread
To touch my solfege dallying as a brat
To consume my sorrow I would rove
Looking to the stars yet it is dark
But the moon gives me a new dance floor
Its purple lamp agitates my dawn
And my birds come again
To cheep cheerfully at my door