The splendid beauty of this living world,
And its subtle moonlight glint wakes a mild-
Youth’s mind, whose colors are of pensive green,
And tranquil white to ink his visions keen.
How do I love to suffer, the quick breeze,
That quivers my heart, the most beauty be,
The untamed life that pains me to amaze;
For why I write in melancholy vibe.
Full of deep insight, the nature gives me
To write boldly without the temptation;
That lurks behind the draperies of fame,
And pause not I with wings of perception.
Oft times I write with my own blood in pain,
A quick release of freedom to express well,
The woes of past and present by views train;
While my fancies unbar from my soul’s hall.
Ah thrills of my soul is not yet perished,
For a flame aglow its spirit of thoughts,
And my words will garland the most admired
Beauty of both seen and the unseen hearts.
Reference for Poem:
* Pensive green—The nature’s weeping scenes; which give sadness for the Poet.
A poem by Nithin Purple