Sunday, January 30, 2011


A word when expressed
From the tongue
It soothes up the heart.

From the lap of mother
To the solitude of grave
It dwells inside a person
In depth of his being.

In each satisfied heart
It glows like a candle
To guide each way.

But when terror rustles
In human mind
It groans and sobs
To breathe its last.
Let us be its survivor
And messenger too.
To warble on livid sky
Like a dove. 

No comments:

Post a Comment