Autobiography In Verse Poem by Sanket Kumar Singh
Autobiography In Verse
I was born with a void
In my soul
A suffocating emptiness
Bereft to the core.
I try to blend in,
Gently,
I try to exhort myself
To be happy.
Yet a strange, ominous pall
Draws me to itself.
With its squalid splendour
I intoxicate myself
As time creeps by,
Slowly,
It fills my heart
With a vague regret.
I eat the forbidden fruit.
It eats away at my conscience.
For some shape of structure
Still my soul pines.
The void still remains
Besmirching my existence
I can feel myself cave in
As I cease all resistance
But yet!
Some vague silhouette
Amidst the desolate night
Makes me put up a fight.
It's eerie beauty
Pulls me out of my plight.
A new raison d'etre,
Once again,
Coalesces with me,
Helping me forget the gaping holes
That dot my being.
A good attempt. Very impressive write, Sanket. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 8:32:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
One thing the beginner poet, Soul is never born with a void. If it is born with void, you never can fill it with anything either. Is there nothing else to pen in this world? Look around. You can pick up so many subjects that can bring positivism. Start writing about them. Along with that, be conversant with the work of other poets. We have the Victorian Poets. Just read Sarojini Naidu's The Coromandel Fishers and you can instantly feel the vibe. I wish you a good time with your pen.