When The Light Is Legacy Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

(Where Readers and Writers Meet Each Other)
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His birth and his death share the same place
Upon pages, he opens his deep eyes
And upon pages, he observed the curves
World to him is like verses
He travels its tuneful traces
Intensified with art, engraved in reality
To him, the paper work is a complaint box
Reformative in a sense
He grinds the revolutionary grains
and spreads the romance-filled vibes
A writer's birth is blessing
Blessing for the unvoiced humanity
If he's caged to conferences he's a hired gun
But the true writer cannot be a hired gun
He cannot be a commercial creep
He's rival to his contemporaries
Partly on the pages, but for the ages to come
His death is also unforgettable
Like his alive life
Woven in each word is his spirit
His deathless spirit
A wondrous partial death he undergoes
But lives a longer life than sages
He's lavish, stylish, and humanly all along
Inked in his writeups, & embroidered in poems
A writer has no death!
If he meets death, he's no more a writer
He's a wordsmith who deletes the word 'death'
He does it aesthetically
And undoes the cruel shaded of death
For a reader he dies
He dies perhaps daily
When a book is closed
When a story is finished
When a letter is halfway
When a poem meets its shore
For a reader, he dies
For a reader he is born over and again
On the same pages with embracing vigor
On the same typeset with the same meter
He smiles through and through
He shines by and by
As a reader has keen nerves
As a reader is off to injustice
As a reader is deathless
So is the writer immortal...
Manifested in marvel, both continue their walks
They are the visitors of the universal truth
They are immersed in permanence
They don't die
For they are the words to last forever!