I was newbie in literature.
Gradually, found slippy footing,
Apprehended a deep quiet yearning.
Butterflies would go wild in my stomach,
Whenever,
I sense intense poetry.
The bliss after shaping,
Would make my day.
Isn’t it love ?
Love for something cosmic,
Scintillating warmth and calmness within.
A cosmic seed in the middle of nihil.
Desire of a bird,
Learning to soar,
Ventured never before.
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 12:42 PM UTC
I was newbie in literature.
Gradually, found slippy footing,
Apprehended a deep quiet yearning.
Butterflies would go wild in my stomach,
Whenever,
I sense intense poetry.
The bliss after shaping,
Would make my day.
Isn’t it love ?
Love for something cosmic,
Scintillating warmth and calmness within.
A cosmic seed in the middle of nihil.
Desire of a bird,
Learning to soar,
Ventured never before.