Like every man with different face,
Nurtured richly under its motherly grace,
with innocent dreams and without aspiration trace,
Did he run his first poetic race.
He grew with years but his poetry remained same,
tried hard as a kid to give his thoughts new frame,
Observation were new but his writings missed its aim,
None to assist and none to blame.
He discovered the discovery after discovering,
His poetry then written were vaguely entertaining,
all places introduced but his poetry frightening,
'The Gods roared, hence there was lightning'
Such abrupt insight and perception imbecile.
For his tender age writing poetry was a fair trial.
In his youth he wrote for his lovers sake
writing amorous thoughts without a seconds break,
Loving her limitless,with consequential rate,
promising her blindly, keeping everything at stake.
All labours of love was he willing to take,
Alas! ! these loads become heavy when lovers separate.
In him the poet never grew,
for his ornamentation grand appealing,
few words did he write but many pages he threw,
for all he lacked was just a feeling.
From the Pagan Gods to the blade of grass,
fought in his mind for their superior part,
Hundreds words gathered for each mighty task,
but few words chosen from his blind innocuous heart.
He found the joy in the pain of his pleasure,
wrying his mind for a drop of conceit,
A poet's perception has infinite measure,
As each lines carries a message beneath.
He looks at the sky and talk to the winds,
For in his invocations, no Muse does he brings,
his mindless heart and his heartless mind,
compress poor words in to majestic lines.
Many wrote and nursed their words,
Many too name for each works were worth,
From epic to Sonnets to simplest terse,
An Age described in their immortal verse
I bow to ye all Oh!!Poet Lords,
For each played the strings of my emotional chords,
Death separates!!,me with my poetic world apart;
As a human was I born but as a poet do I depart!