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this idea is encrypted
if these words were pieces of a jigsaw
where will i put "anxiety"", happiness"
to decipher .

my tender scream slicing the air ,
signals the end of agony,
cutting of the cord is a punctuation.

what is left you can complete'
nurturing is a jigsaw piece that fits nuture.
cherish the rapture , for we can only live but once.
the criminal love made me,
started as a faithful emotion,
that i acted and expressed,
not through the mind but the heart.
however through your mind you decided
to uproot my heart and now i am a heartless being.
first of all i unblock the reading block.
then i unblock the writers block,
that i feel heavy in my chest
the rest is the monk in me exposed
to write dailies on all sorts of matters.

this aspiration i am declaring
will be re-written by monks hand
i can feel flow of the monk,
like Geoffry  Chaucer reincarnated
modern day Canterbury Tales, i will write
on my poetry pilgrimage  .

i am an aspiring poetry monk
i foresee a poetry monk,
who will invent and reinvent words
for poetic stories to be told infinitely
like numbers.

— The End —