Offspring

A dead matter,
Flown out soul,
Though I intend, I indulge
Many a times I kill
Rendering to death
Offspring to shape.

Give life!
Though the ink is cold
Every sitting, a new transplant
Born in solitude,
Words are the oxygen,
I let you breathe.
Thoughts where I am grown,
Feelings, I am planted in
Before I let it run.

Quietness is all I ask
The hen is brooding
Eggs will break
Life is coming out.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Arnav Gogoi 16 August 2013

good write...keep sharing....

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Gajanan Mishra 14 August 2013

life is coming out, good write, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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