I can’t let it die
The solitary poetic sigh
Which breathes in minute pauses
Betwixt the gaps of worldly duties and entangled chores
Neither let it suffocate in the fumes of intoxicating insecurities
Nor allow the pangs of survival and existence wipe the ethereal pastels
Those vernacular treasures fastened securely in caskets of thoughts
Transform as they rise and glow as embers in the sky to twinkle till ages eternal.
soumyav 
Learned a new word, betwixt…No, it shall never die for it does, the poet never stays alive. Your words pierce the soul!
Rightly said Vishal.. We live in the words and lines of our creation.