Your words show me the way
In the blind alleys of despair
When I'm stumbling against closed doors
Straying hither and thither in a rootless,
paper-thin state
Your words flash before me
Like a light expanding and spreading
Beyond the cage of human needs
Diffusing the darkness of desolate forests
Where I'm losing my way again and again
Why do I need your words
So desperately
As if they are a life-giving potion
However bitter, and full of venom
They are my panacea
For they come from your pen
And the fountain of your soul
If it so happened
That you ceased to write
From whence would I get the light
The fire to warm my ice-cold soul?
f it so happened That you ceased to write From whence would I get the light The fire to warm my ice-cold soul? Words, the need to write, the need to read and console oneself. all that is brought out so well in this poem. thank you dear poetess.
No body wants that spring dry up which feeds their writing....it's indeed a very beautiful and a kind of craving desire...I liked this piece from your pen...thanks for sharing
Many years ago there were pen friends who never met each other but exchanged letters. Now thoughts, views and emotions are exchanged on the web sites. It.s more effective as it is instant. But to me it appears that ego of the poetess is talking to it's super ego. The ego wants words from super ego for en lighting the paths of life. Or it may simply be a request to a loved one to favor with his words expressing love and caress. In any case it's a lovely poem.
Thank you sir for a nice interpretation of my poem. Your valuable comments mean a lot.
Love and life! Working along with the muse of your mind. Nice work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
words of comfort does pose hope of not being alone for one.