A mediocre
You're enjoying I'm creating Neither hundred percent Nor the hundredth of whole Only like a mediocre of You and me. As long as I'm writing My poem bridges the gap Even though a single Atom of us.
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I can't level myself with words, it is what I do everyday that defines me, complicated but simple
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Who is here to love..
Who left the particles of ashes
To filter the pain,
While the eyes are getting
Wriggling curiosity
The invisible hand reflecting
Upon the face of mist
Lips has no utterance
The lullaby from aches heart
Is disclosing the secret of love.
Who is here
To love fire
On the chariot of flame.
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