Thursday, January 1, 2009


The freezing hands are clinging onto the wounds of the past
Tears, moan, whine;
Turning against the true meaning of the story
For a cold heart, in the vein of yourselves
Melts with a warm hug, like a frost.

There will forever be sorrow and loneliness
With man endures searching for a sanctuary to mend
To front days into the room of happiness

Fates play
Even though it makes your heart ache
And a ray of light
May descend from darkness for us to grasp
To feel the fierce painful touch
To discern a persons warmth
As beautiful as it is miserable
For the great time is ephemeral.

We name this LIFE.

Fatin Wahab, Jan 2, 0033

my second poem. enjoy..