Thursday, March 19, 2020

Cry of a Poet

When I admire your healthful beauty
And I try to describe it in ink,
I cry...
...for not being competent enough
To defend your holistic with it.

I'm no Wordsworth, nor the famous Tagore.
Not here to create another history.
But you.. being here...
Is a cry.. for the poet within me...

You are the beauty of the night
An oasis for every traveller.
The symbol of dedication and achievement,
Vessel of perfection.

You are...
the nymph of night,
shining so bright.
Petrifying my words and my mind...
And I'm just
The hungry poet tonight.

~Quill
at

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