The Birth of a Poem
From the myriad of pains and emotions,
From the edge of my silent and riveted mood
I picked up one theme— to write one poem,
Not even two,
The night seemed to me so perceptive,
It was quite buoyant,
Wondrous things had arisen from the
Cacophony of deep nights,
From the wind that blew the murmurs of
Leaves through my window,
And my glorious poem which was hidden
In the shadows of darkness for so long a time
Came out with a smile!
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