I wasn't  born a poet, the poet in me was born after you arrived.

If a poet fills his wounds with poetry, will his body become a masterpiece?

In the cascade of light, she flows like a stream,
While I, with an old thirst, in her beauty gleam.
I've quenched my longing, with a gaze so deep,
Capturing her essence, in my heart, I keep.
With every passing moment, l linger in her sight,
Banishing thoughts of others, swiftly, out of sight.
For in her radiance, I find my endless quest,
To dwell in her presence, is where I find my rest.

I want to leave this boisterous town of sadness and hate,
And shift my body to where my soul resides.
A place where I can hear the cascading waterfall
and see the serene green view of the evergreen forest.
The place which makes my heart flutter with the sound of the silent seashore.
A place where the morning begins with the soothing call of a peacock, and ends with the resplendent reflection of the moon in the lake.
The lake, in which I can see fishes breathing and witness nature healing.
A place where I can find my solace and peace.
I want to leave this boisterous town of violence and rage,
where symphony of honks and shouts fill the air.
And shift my body to where my soul resides.

the branch that left the tree , returned as an ax .

Within our souls , we carry love's greatest stories, unspoken but forever true.