Some or the other day, I think,
Is it agony or pain , burning the soul,
My eyes blink,
And tears as pure as etheral drink,
Carves a way to the world, allured,
With dooms and glooms of mortality,
As men has himself learned to shade,
Their heart under the shelf of iron,
Valience, courage long stood,
Now these , stretched limbs, starves for aid.
Some or the other day, I feel,
My head aching with the burden of,
Its accomplishment,
.....
.....
From war to winning the heart,
To the thrones of world from journey of stars,
Merited , gentle and divine life,
Full of vim and enthusiasm.
...
And laughs at them (my accomplishments),
For this man, has colded down,
As fist of iron, which wrentched the men,
Has shivered.
And wit of wolf as sharp as knife,
Has caught rust.
Some or the other day, I feel,
Should not the dust sprawl my eyes,
And lead me to the unbound sky ,
So that, my heart, alone can see,
The day in dark and lord in light.
But , for the time to take ,
Wandering into the wilderness,
Thoughts do say its say,
Like a cloudy motion of madness,
But, as I swere to lord ,I believe ,I think,
Some or the other day,
Would not I doubt my achievements.