A TRIP TO MY PAST

 


Blurred are my eyes

Foggy is my atmosphere

My steps are grossly uncordinated 

The words of my mouth; my speech

How equally are they compared to those of a stutterer 

My condition defiles the doctor's diagnosis

O! My troubled soul!

What have you become?

In the midst of my condition

My past came to me—the better part of it, I mean

My attention, drawn to previous victories 

Strength surged into my soul

Like a Phoenix, I arose 

As fine wine, I was retransformed 

Yes, I did it before

I surely can—again

O! My soul!

Back to your strengthener 

Go back Home! 


Par: Sambasy

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