That path where thou left me
still awaits thy return
whence shall the golden moment arrive
like the aureate of the zephyr
I await thy steps
when thou retread
I walk on the same path
every day
to envision
beneath that blueness does life smile
like the pretty lilies enraptured dance
does the rivulet sing
songs of love
can it dissolve the pain
of burning years
which path shall reach to this realm
where pure would be the air
and clear emotions,
O! thee!
will thou lead me to other side into this heaven ?
@Soumya V
“POETS”
Poets speak truth,
I presume
in between lines and words
metaphors wrapped in a cosy shawl of emotions
personified as a beautiful bird flying to the unknown destination in a
a silent night
sailing through fluffy clouds of hope and desperation
they assume
they fall,
they rise and
sometimes become stagnant.
Poets write, poets bleed,
their priceless treasure
the hidden thoughts
those emerge on the blank pages of
a journal
@Soumya V
soumyav 