The Beauty
The beauty, more covetable than the charm of breasts
Of a pretty woman, hidden somewhere in this world
Or in the dreams of a poet, yet to come;
In search of that beauty and Its pleasure, still I walk
Throughout this life where tyranny is the only pride
Of the rulers; still I digging my own body
Until and unless I find the center of the bones
And I've touched the nothingness-points of
Roses and all the flowers that smiling with deception
And on the peak of so called achievement hills
Copyright © Rahman Henry | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment