The Poet Speaks Poem by Shouvik Narayan Hore
The Poet Speaks
In the mundane darkness of the morn,
The world awakened in its scorn,
Writes the weary pen on pages torn,
Tales of castles and mysteries forlorn.
All that the heavy eyelids could snatch,
Whispers of the noise the ears catch,
Whatever could the drowsy mind match,
Their judged truths with unseen sorrows attach.
That which the bustling globe ever saw,
Painters on colored pages ever draw,
The poet with weeping smiles adorns the flaw,
At tranquil midnights which none but he foresaw.
n the mundane darkness of the morn, The world awakened in its scorn, Writes the weary pen on pages torn, Tales of castles and mysteries forlorn. very fine rhyming with full sense of the words in its coinage into philosophical views....... thank you very much dear poet
nice lines... good poem Inside poet smiles at proposal Finds no support and meets with dismissal “People may use you for selfish end” In this world you may never find ally or friend
darkness of the morn, good one, thanks. go on. Please read my poems and comment .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/23/2024 7:46:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Well articulated and nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm. A beautiful work of art. Thanks for sharing, Narayan.
Thank you Chinedu.