'Tis the perfect time to remember.
'Ere I recall e'erything in this December.
Those are like embers:
In my smouldering souls' chambers;
The lost dreams,
The lorn-affections,
And those leprous hopes,
They turn'd my eyes dark and part'd my slumber.
Like a loafer I wander'd for piece of loaves
Nor I get peace from th' shade of leaves
Oh, all I need now is a tabernacle- to immure;
The wounds of my life,
And the pains of my life;
Or I need a cure,
From all the incurable scars,
And from the stanchless tears:
Though, I always await a lure;
A lure of bright light,
In my e'ery dark night,
And for that I always await-
To go up my life in my own gait,
From the begining of every New Year
Or bring my life to bear;
In e'ery day of my life's sphere.
O Lord, unto thee, I lift my soul;
Fill now my heart's bowl!
Bless me with majestic dreams,
Gift me a dearie with chaste love,
And bless us with shoreless hopes.
O Lord, unto thee, I lift my soul;
Fill now my heart's bowl!
VIPINS PUTHOORAN
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/december-44/
