A flowing sensation on my mind waves a rising
To poems, awake to hear human heart beating,
Making it out of being, trance, agony and bliss
The shape of heart rejoices, shudders to verses
In perfect harmony between the poem adorned
By me in aspiration and the soul who reads

Perhaps some are poets, not we all but
To the heart paramours take it by surprise
Odes chosen to the meeting of minds fair in love
Known to protesters a language of slogan to rights
Or a lullaby calms a baby to rest and quiet
Merging with many minds, poetry stays alive.