News Topic:Poetry

"I listen to the chirping of the Bulbul daily; That sweet voice resembles to yours; If I write for you, will you read it? Your love empowers me so well," writes the poem.

"When trees express nature, The time, aiming to arrive With greenery all over them Like welcoming the Spring," writes the poet.

"As I'm here with strong will, Hard for them to kill me with jab of knife, Hark! You, might coward knights," writes the poet.

"In the desolate wilderness I call thy name, My love! And abraded my heart With my fingernails Until they dissolve into my blood," writes the poet.

"The multistorey and decorated houses; Raised down to earth by tyrants; The graveyard full of young bodies; Who used to be the buds of nature."

"Tried they to shot us nearby, And uttered then a natural one, Alas! Failed like miserable wretch, As howling storm a natural shield, Driven them all at their assigned place."

"They call me a woman And not a human, I am fixed Like a portrait On the walls of society; For there are only few Spectators to see, And enjoy my show."

"O Darling! Thou art, unaware about a love, The love, which I labour to thee, devotedly. Others were reflecting over, sort of infatuation, For some this my insanity, Though doggedly yelling, its thy love; truth."