Dear life, I want to serve this drink of wine again to you,
As that last hope of living,
As that beginning of survival,
For all the hardships which lay ahead,
For all the fresh beginnings that are yet to happen,
For all that love I'm going to give and receive,
For all the hatred I received and passed,
For all the good I did and get.
Dear life, let me pour this drink of champagne,
As the last of hope for survival,
And a way for living,
To get strengthened till the time snatches the last day of hope,
To feel loved before it gets too lonely,
To love before I'll get consumed by hatred.
Dear life, let me drink this immortal water of sin,
Survival, hope, and holy path together.
YOU ARE READING
Tales Of Hopeless Romantics: Imperfect Poetic Journey Of Love And Life
Poetry"My love was as cruel as my nightmares, and it was as beautiful as my daydream, which never dare to turn itself into reality, neither did it ever ended like a daydream, the agony kept hanging me like that of half hope, the hope kept hanging me like...
