The yellowed diary's notes whisper in vernacular.
They sound the forgotten posture,
the cramped cry that forces me to hear that voice.
Now I stumble back in your black-paged wake.
...
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Sir you are as incredible as the sun lighting not so easy path of poetry to look it brighter than heaven. Sir I have read all your poems one by one very intensely and will be reading again and again till my last breath to gain an ounce of knowledge on how to compose and create poems in a larger sense for the sake of humanity and our lives in essence
Good Poem 👍