(1812-1889 / London / England)

Fake Fame

Wandering like a nomad, the only thing that controls time
Whose help as I take to present you this rhyme.

Collecting the golden pieces of the past it glares at the destination
Visualising the success due to preservierence and anticipation.

Keeping itself in the spotlight devouring glory and fame.
Far off from this true world enjoying the created game.

But when the dark eyes open into the reality.
Watching the real colours questions of the possibility.

The crack devlops and the false mirror shatters everywhere.
The moment approaches its doom with no one to take care.

We than understand that it was truly insane.
Realising the real time try to seperate heart and the brain.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 21

Comments (21)

Eager waiting for his person, he counts the time is just three days and night! Nicely penned by Poet Robert Browning! Thanks for sharing!
I hate kids they suck so much
The wait for the beloved dipped in anxiety, eagerness and restlessness has been wonderfully portrayed by Robert Browning in this amazing emotional outburst.
So formalised. A sign of the times.
An excellent poem, one of the best! A masterpiece! Thanks for sharing!
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