I
She, herself was like my very first book
Especially in the very first page I made
A blank page, the unknown, I was afraid
A great hesitation I had soon took
II
She was very difficult to describe
Like a love letter by an ancient scribe
But the challenge was like needle and thread,
Worth the story woven, turns time when read
III
She can be as innocent as a child,
As daring as a lioness in the wild,
She can be unpredictable like skies
But however she acts, firm are her eyes
IV
She was one I was afraid of writing,
I was scared of ending my best writing
I wanted her to be my poetry,
As her poet, guard the world where she's free
V
She bears the light of all of the night's stars
That's why her pages could fill out so far
Her story needs no end to learn lessons
Drawn within her are the constellations
YOU ARE READING
Voiceless Poetry
PoesiaDrops of rain fall in my ambience Flooding me and my existence Tears trickle down but fails to drop Voice unheard, never yields to stop Poems are verse to let out thoughts In each line is beauty of thoughts In each word is wonder of thoughts It drai...
