By Harsh Joshi
Words,
They float within my head,
And in yours too I’m sure,
In a million little voices,
Trying to decide their place.
Ambitious,
Perhaps this work itself may be,
But I write it not for the entities outside,
But the feelings of mine heart,
And silent musings of the mind.
Words,
They float within my head,
And in yours too I’m sure,
In a million little voices,
Trying to decide their place.
Ambitious,
Perhaps this work itself may be,
But I write it not for the entities outside,
But the feelings of mine heart,
And silent musings of the mind.
 |
| Photo credit – Bhaumik Mistry |
Beauty,
Of words and our own reality,
Mingled in each other,
Like does honey with the wax,
As one holds the other.
Form,
Something which I crave,
Free or bound to structure,
It could be either,
I don’t really care which.
Words,
I am lost in them,
And though my vocabulary is not too strong,
I still use words,
And mould them to my desires.
Finally,
Many things can yet be said,
But I’ll let them be,
For there is someone else out there,
With my words who’ll find new meaning.