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Every poem will be a legend
On silent stone walls,
Ancient poets' Scribbled verses,
Some are not visible to our eyes
But the breeze kisses them and
carries its vibes secretly.
Couldn't be?
Covered in dust,
Hidden Poets' Scribbled Verses
Some are not visible to our eyes.
But the dust absorbed them
And draw a pattern as a magical powder
Through the sun's rays
As the universe needed to absorbed
their thoughts.
Couldn't be?
Among the stinking garbage dumps
Some hidden Scribbled verses,
Flies on garbage heaps dances
When they read that miracle words
Couldn't be?
When poems ground to earth
Earth absorbed their rhythm
When meeting a painful verse
He pulls out the pain as Earthquakes.
Couldn't be?
When the poem burns
Fire flames dance with its verse
Even if they turn to ashes
The verses never die
As a human
When a poem written by a poet
It couldn't be destroyed by anyone
Every poem will be a legend
which are never die.
If we couldn't see them
That's our misfortune
#WritcoPoetryDay
© Sobashi.M.P.Hirushani
Ancient poets' Scribbled verses,
Some are not visible to our eyes
But the breeze kisses them and
carries its vibes secretly.
Couldn't be?
Covered in dust,
Hidden Poets' Scribbled Verses
Some are not visible to our eyes.
But the dust absorbed them
And draw a pattern as a magical powder
Through the sun's rays
As the universe needed to absorbed
their thoughts.
Couldn't be?
Among the stinking garbage dumps
Some hidden Scribbled verses,
Flies on garbage heaps dances
When they read that miracle words
Couldn't be?
When poems ground to earth
Earth absorbed their rhythm
When meeting a painful verse
He pulls out the pain as Earthquakes.
Couldn't be?
When the poem burns
Fire flames dance with its verse
Even if they turn to ashes
The verses never die
As a human
When a poem written by a poet
It couldn't be destroyed by anyone
Every poem will be a legend
which are never die.
If we couldn't see them
That's our misfortune
#WritcoPoetryDay
© Sobashi.M.P.Hirushani
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