A night with a drunk ghost, 
   A journey into the dark forests of hope.
   A wait for the one who shall descend from the thin air 
   Into the flimsy images of an airy existence.
  The dreary night unfolds; into the lap of nothingness, 
  The exotic aroma of time; enwraps the numb senses, 
   It is the love for the one beyond existence, 
   It is the love for what is beyond senses.
  Drunk am i in the wine of its apparition, 
  Drunk shall i want to be in its esoteric  mirages...
  Intoxication of it not being there....
  Submerges the anticipation of it being here.
  But when? 
  Here shall i wait,  never wanting it to come; 
  Here shall i stand, for it to find me waiting.                
Wow....This poem is so surreal...Beauty in the unmanifested....Love with a vision....Thrill in the waiting.... TO
The anticipation and wait captured superbly in this poem! Preets
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
Its a drink with a cup of joy......a tantaliser titillating, a teaser titivating