When you are forced to live the dreams that aren't yours...grief and discontentment is all that's left in your life.
I've been living the dreams that aren't mine;
In the ark of life I have been sailing,
I have lost my true self and I have been wailing;
In the midst of people I stand alone,
The sun of happiness, on the horizon of my life, has never shone;
Moving towards an unfamiliar future, I trudge,
Against my fate I bear a grudge;
The castle of my dreams has crumbled,
Walking on this unknown path, many a times, I've tumbled;
I've given myself up to my lonely and broken dreams,
where I'm forced to hear the heart-rending screams;
I want to close my eyes forever,
I believe, then, grief will grasp me never;
Now everything is clear to me,
I know how worst one's life can be;
In the lock-up of the wretched state of my mind, every dream dies its death,
Now, I've lost will and courage to breathe my breath;
In the form of tiny droplets of water, my dead dreams trickle down(my cheek),
Ah! What an agony it is to wear this unwanted thorny crown;
I cry, I shout, I moan: put me to sword,
For I'm not this strong to bear life's miserable load;
Torn and tired, as I'm, from the dungeons of my melancholy I want to run away,
But hope, for a miracle, has made me stay.
Poetry by Mirza Nazrana Bég
Read 899 times
Written on 2010-12-04 at 07:50
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Dungeons of my melancholy...
All these years I have been drinking a poisonous wine,I've been living the dreams that aren't mine;
In the ark of life I have been sailing,
I have lost my true self and I have been wailing;
In the midst of people I stand alone,
The sun of happiness, on the horizon of my life, has never shone;
Moving towards an unfamiliar future, I trudge,
Against my fate I bear a grudge;
The castle of my dreams has crumbled,
Walking on this unknown path, many a times, I've tumbled;
I've given myself up to my lonely and broken dreams,
where I'm forced to hear the heart-rending screams;
I want to close my eyes forever,
I believe, then, grief will grasp me never;
Now everything is clear to me,
I know how worst one's life can be;
In the lock-up of the wretched state of my mind, every dream dies its death,
Now, I've lost will and courage to breathe my breath;
In the form of tiny droplets of water, my dead dreams trickle down(my cheek),
Ah! What an agony it is to wear this unwanted thorny crown;
I cry, I shout, I moan: put me to sword,
For I'm not this strong to bear life's miserable load;
Torn and tired, as I'm, from the dungeons of my melancholy I want to run away,
But hope, for a miracle, has made me stay.
Poetry by Mirza Nazrana Bég
Read 899 times
Written on 2010-12-04 at 07:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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