The crying world.

Tears they are of a world that dies

    crying out sad for he sees mankind.

In hurry they are for their rice

    and fail to see the doom of their kind.


Joy doth it bring to things that live

    elixir of life it is granted for free.

Taken for granted it is without anything to give

   in return for it for we fail to see.


Wet is the world and a green it blooms

    restoring faith and hope to the ones that look.

Bloom it shall till the end that looms

    and closed it will be like ending a book.


It is said that poems are creations of the mind when it is as still as the undisturbed water. It can be seen through and reveals what lie beneath. But what about a heart that cries for help and the waves of the mind won’t die down? The wind that blows from within the sea brings with it a feel of cold. And cold is the world that lies around me…


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