Poetry
Grievance of a poetess
For many days...I do not seem to belong to me...
For many days...I do not see the poetess in me... Why is it that you...though belonging to me...never really listen to me... You defy me when I need you...
But you lock yourself in my grip when I do not desire you... Why is it that you...though belonging to me...make me belong to you... In search of verses...now and then...
I get lost in sanguine reverie...
I rummage through the old chest of the past in gossamer and dust...
I strain my ears to hear the mumble of the earth...
I force my eyes to have glimpses beyond my sight... Still...
You are the only one...who makes my mind
comprehensible...
You are the only one...who makes me a writer...
For many days...I do not see the poetess in me... Why is it that you...though belonging to me...never really listen to me... You defy me when I need you...
But you lock yourself in my grip when I do not desire you... Why is it that you...though belonging to me...make me belong to you... In search of verses...now and then...
I get lost in sanguine reverie...
I rummage through the old chest of the past in gossamer and dust...
I strain my ears to hear the mumble of the earth...
I force my eyes to have glimpses beyond my sight... Still...
You are the only one...who makes my mind
comprehensible...
You are the only one...who makes me a writer...
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