I met him in an evening:
Along with god and nature; nearby pain sea.
The child whom I spoke- was all alone.
I sat him, seized and traced the words,
A tabloid of unutterable thoughts-
Dreams in his heart have breath
Love, people and planet of his own;
Coloring all his objects: he has seized.
And a wide realm of wild reality.
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of his dream.
With all his creations, thoughts has a slime of anger,
To build a tyranny of pleasure and joy.
I would empty my soul of the dream,
That glittered and gathered in me; into him.
But, not to collapse him- I left.
He will build his empire of pleasure.
Sakkthi Subramaniyam
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreams-of-abandoned-child/
