Through words
Man may remain mortal
With death danger turning fatal
Yet his heart smells fragrance
Not letting go any chance
Poetry is not simple eruption
It is consumption of poison
In heart and emitting holy spell
For an entire world to feel
He may die anytime
But his poems shall survive
Get wide circulation all over
If that has sanctity cover
Poet is like small child
His heart is mind
Else he shall not be writing poetry
But committing deception and treachery
So heart injects
Purest form of acts
Through words
To spread it onward
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So heart injects Purest form of acts Through words To spread it onward