SILENT VERSES
I tore too many pages
Of those silent verses.
Few of which I remembered,
And rest-I buried;
So that one can’t see and none can read.
Fear struck me first;
If truth is what, I am to disclose;
Fold these all, before it shows.
Thus no one knows, what I wrote
Simple thoughts that I begot.
What better way than a poetry
To express things in mystery,
Thought I, and started to write.
Yet my lines still so simple,
And still unrhymed.
Know not I how it feels
To read such lines of my kind.
Seeking for such affections
I've started walking hereby;
Unknown lanes, unknown wayside
Thus I stepped inside.
Fill me up with imagination
Fill me up with emotion.
Make me not immortal
But make my lines eternal.
