I suffer often loss, Due to my kind-laws, Others exploit my flaws, Great sorrow this does cause, As I finally lose the toss.
I realize everything too late
I suffer due to cunning fate
This agony, I could not tolerate
I am the sufferer in every deal
For others' sorrows I truly feel
My happiness they coolly steal
Even God wants not to heal
Due to my kind heart I lose
To cheat me others choose
This leads to disastrous news
Having nobility is of no use
Right from my childhood days
I totally lack great Lord's grace
I got lost in almost all the ways
God helps not, but my soul prays
I take hopefully a step
But, I could not develop
None wants to kindly help
Fate beats me to pulp
Only sorrow I ever hold
Though my words are gold
My sufferings are untold
I have grown almost old
A consoling word none says
Noble goals I eagerly chase
But, God takes not my case
Though trauma I sadly face
I am very easily cheated
Getting absolutely defeated
Half-century is completed
Life is disgracefully competed
When will God give me relief
By removing all my deep grief?
When will fate stop being a thief
And make my sad time brief?
To the Almighty I now appeal
To make my will equal to steel
He must give me zest and zeal
Before Him I prayerfully kneel.
M V VENKATARAMAN
Poetry by mvvenkataraman
Read 965 times
Written on 2010-10-18 at 17:51
Tags Kindness  Innocence  Loss 
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Gloom and Doom In My Heart-Room
My mind is in a confused stateI realize everything too late
I suffer due to cunning fate
This agony, I could not tolerate
I am the sufferer in every deal
For others' sorrows I truly feel
My happiness they coolly steal
Even God wants not to heal
Due to my kind heart I lose
To cheat me others choose
This leads to disastrous news
Having nobility is of no use
Right from my childhood days
I totally lack great Lord's grace
I got lost in almost all the ways
God helps not, but my soul prays
I take hopefully a step
But, I could not develop
None wants to kindly help
Fate beats me to pulp
Only sorrow I ever hold
Though my words are gold
My sufferings are untold
I have grown almost old
A consoling word none says
Noble goals I eagerly chase
But, God takes not my case
Though trauma I sadly face
I am very easily cheated
Getting absolutely defeated
Half-century is completed
Life is disgracefully competed
When will God give me relief
By removing all my deep grief?
When will fate stop being a thief
And make my sad time brief?
To the Almighty I now appeal
To make my will equal to steel
He must give me zest and zeal
Before Him I prayerfully kneel.
M V VENKATARAMAN
Poetry by mvvenkataraman
Read 965 times
Written on 2010-10-18 at 17:51
Tags Kindness  Innocence  Loss 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text