I find freedom in these moments of solitude at my desk,
My pen scratching away without the slightest protest,
Blue ink flows forth like waters of an unending river,
As words begin filling up this blank sheet of paper.
The sighing wind makes the papers around me flutter,
Like the wings of a bird with ruffled feathers,
Everything is reduced to gamut of messiness & clutter,
Yet beneath all this chaos lies a sense of order.
Wave after wave of emotions well up in my soul,
So intense & overwhelming I cannot seem to control,
The speed of my hand as I continue to write,
My mind blanketed by the darkness of the night.
As my thoughts start to take the form of words,
The voice within me just waiting to be heard,
Speaks with each & every stroke of my pen,
I express my feelings in the best way I can.
The power of these written words set me free,
The shackles that bind me are unlocked by this key,
Liberated, uninhibited like an eagle I soar,
I am no longer trapped behind bolted doors.
Poetry, a beautiful God-given form of literature,
Created to provide spiritual enrichment & pleasure,
Verses upon verses written on every aspect of life,
Tales of ease & comfort, stories of suffering & strife.
In the stillness of the night I find peace,
As well as the much sought-after release,
As I sit here contentedly at my writing desk,
My tumultuous heart finds a place of rest.
My pen scratching away without the slightest protest,
Blue ink flows forth like waters of an unending river,
As words begin filling up this blank sheet of paper.
The sighing wind makes the papers around me flutter,
Like the wings of a bird with ruffled feathers,
Everything is reduced to gamut of messiness & clutter,
Yet beneath all this chaos lies a sense of order.
Wave after wave of emotions well up in my soul,
So intense & overwhelming I cannot seem to control,
The speed of my hand as I continue to write,
My mind blanketed by the darkness of the night.
As my thoughts start to take the form of words,
The voice within me just waiting to be heard,
Speaks with each & every stroke of my pen,
I express my feelings in the best way I can.
The power of these written words set me free,
The shackles that bind me are unlocked by this key,
Liberated, uninhibited like an eagle I soar,
I am no longer trapped behind bolted doors.
Poetry, a beautiful God-given form of literature,
Created to provide spiritual enrichment & pleasure,
Verses upon verses written on every aspect of life,
Tales of ease & comfort, stories of suffering & strife.
In the stillness of the night I find peace,
As well as the much sought-after release,
As I sit here contentedly at my writing desk,
My tumultuous heart finds a place of rest.
I often have this terrible urge to grab a pen & paper to write, scribble & doodle on… When the world & its complexities seem to overwhelm me, I find comfort & relief through writing… in the wee hours of the morning when the world is asleep & I am all alone, I am at liberty to express my thoughts & feelings through words… After all , the pen is mightier than the sword, a superior weapon of war in the battle field of our minds!!!
