Weeks have passed, since I halted in my run.
To lie down and think, away from the burning sun.
All my varied thoughts, why are all the same?
They start and end, revolving at the only name.
The darkness has fallen, storm plays the melody.
The silence that has spread, cannot be broken.
I fight the dark shadows, in search of light.
Awaiting the dawn, in this dark night.
For sometimes, silence, leads to deafness;
Sometimes, even darkness, to blindness.
All my hopes and dreams, now rest in you.
I want to get closer, drifting away, seem to be you.
I pray with prayers, that may melt the heart,
the power and will, of whom, can bridge our part.
Tonight any dream will do, as long as, your fragrance,
keeps the flame burning, of hope, of love of you!
The music of language, intricate rhyme schemes, elegant phrases, vivid images - the art of poetry is enough to inspire many to write it. Poetry is the practice of creating artworks using language. What could be a better way than discovering the music inside yourself than Poetry? Words are the soul of any rythm, any sort of music.