As a poet
As a poet
as far as I am,
I can surely tell
It is painful to rhyme.
Much more it is,
to bear these words
with greatest of senses.
But I believe I can
While attempting my best
So here it is one,
Let's put it to a test.
Today, for a few
Let me tell you
the wisdom of those dusty pages
of the ages
which carry the epistomology
of these verses.
They answer that-
'How words lifeless like these
to read
and to hear
cause us to please and to care?'
First and foremost,
The sound of rhythm
does the work enough
And
then the play of words
makes up the whole.
Next,
About the beauty tied to
the letters
makes it uneasy to ignore.
The description of senses
May take deep into denses
So do lookout for the tree of depth
that can even tempt you
to think about the miracle of life
And the truth of death.
Furthermore,
Let's not ignore
the devices
of these verses,
and dig out together all the
treasure of literacies.
Oh..
What a foolish I am?
To end the page
By ignoring the significances
of non rhymes.
Finally,
I would like to tell
The most hidden of all-
'It's all just beauty
And a beautiful poetry.'
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