i am not a poet to sing in verses
yet heart springs sometimes to draw some lines while passions fly high.
i have nothing to tell you except the salty lake of tears,
dry sand of failure , shattered dune of nothingness , the dusty wind
are now chasing me from behind.
all that were good seem dream.
i have no mystic qualities like poets i don’t know how and from Where they draw their knowledge of poetry turning words into living picture.
their powerful eye sight can go things beyond and deep to draw something yet to
write,
they can hear the sorrow of the faded rose
the silent talk of night.
they also feel the pain,they feel joy.
as long as there will be people who love beauty, poetry will be sing in magical verse.
©subirmitra
S