Dwelling In Brain Poem by hemu gupta

Dwelling In Brain



Its time to go.
crossing the lane,
or compact oneself in fixed frame,
wheather it is surreal or vain,
Its time to play,
wheather art makes you,
articulate or wise,
holding the words like flower in bouquette,
or forest flowers blooming at their own,
creating a spell or ending a game.
knowing less or more
I found me surrounded with words unlimited,
dwelling in brain.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success