Poetry

For words to born & frame the rhyme in the ocean of possibilities, our thoughts & feelings must align, so as it can collapse & squeezed to extract drops of nectar to endorse, display & publish so that the observers are totally engrossed.

It is my literary work in which my expression of aesthetic feelings and ideas are waiting to gain interest of spectator by distinctive style and rhythm.

I just try to paint my feelings laid on frame work of words.

Mourning go past

To my voice ears were dripping
To get the view eyes were piping
Wanted to narrate & say
Within bony frame the story that lay
Sucking  that which stringed by fang
When the dry wind whistled & sang
Along with miles below river that roared
Creating tone that blossom can't afford
Picking from the core of my heart
Asked how he felt when leaves depart
Leaving behind branches bare
Lying down how unfair
The ghost of fallen leaves
Scattering on floor the truth perceives
Buried underneath snow flakes
Untill to death the soil takes
When you are far overdue be wise
For your position you will be on the rise
By the time fall will be over
Admiring the skeletal green leaves will cover
The lesson that throughly remain untold
Will continue with gracefully Unfold
Letting mourning go past
When joy inflow becomes ready to last.