A worn out diary breathes in my chest
It carries billions of words
Yet it never wept.
The rhythm of falling rain
Soothes the hollow veins
In which no blood rests.
How to kill the roots without hurting the leaves?
Million of questions are embedded in it.
How to rinse off the walls of skull
Without peeling off the skin?
Questions give way to more questions
Answers give way to none.
Eternal love can never be separated.
While scars never leave your skin.
Ego hurts those who have complex
It otherwise hurts none.
good rhythm to a fine poem. Always to look for the unchangeable.
Yet it never wept! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Asavri, A worn out diary, that is breathing in one's chest.... lovely concept. And profound thoughts. Nice poem. Good to see you on ph..