A Poem

Every woe is a new poem A new prose which fabricates the stars in the galaxy They say about the spilling blood out from the heart Like satin wine-drops in the pages Behold! They hold their luck inside Tuck their malice, which are undone Let them breath with your inhalation Let them live with your recitation Every patel-less flower is a poem They caste off their laughter in the sand Which dehydrate them and shows the Hallucination of heaven Behold! They are naked and weeping for mercy Let them cover with your hands Let them free with your recognition Every mate-less bird is a poem Whose feather get ruffled by the ugly wind They lost their voice of laughter Sing only to remember the guillotine of fate Behold! They’re falling from the sky with a new tone Let them fly with your complacence Let them have their salvation by your sad feelings.