A new day dawns once again.
When I rise in the dawn that appears twice in a day,
The sunrise and the sunset.
Where the poet can’t find the soul in which he burned,
When the rivulet of his thoughts cascades down to his venomous ink to deliver the message of God,
To heal the pain of the unsuccessful struggles of the past decades.
When a real poet harbours a message of what may come to pass
In a dark time,
When the eye begins to see without the limelight in which the layman’s inner light reside.
A poet prophesize
The pen emphasizes
But the dullard criticizes
When the real poets rhapsodize and see in the dark!
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