Sunday Poem By Rejuan Sardar

The Road Is Weary

No, no! I’m not tired yet,
The road is weary.
Upland he goes
And down the vale,
But darkness hasn’t prevailed.
Weary is not my beloved too,
But the road is weary
And it’s reluctant to go.

The byway is led in the forest
The blue light isn’t lit yet,
The aisle between the rose bush
Has not departed yet,
But the road is weary
We are not tired yet.

Millions of stars to steer
Through the heart of forest,
Her vanity raised in vain
And my veins are not tired yet.

Thousands of streams to cross
Hundreds of uphills to lose,
To go, be not to weary,
To where the rose bush
By the Love stream that flows.

Her veins are not shrunken
My arms are too stiff,
We are not weary yet
But the road is, at the cliff.

But I vowed, to myself, to keep
That I’ll gift my beloved,
The Rose by that Love stream;
But the road is very weary,
And we are still awake.