Poets Returns
In quiet spaces where words once dwelled,
I’ve returned, my pen, no longer quelled.
Through whispers of the midnight’s breeze,
Verse and rhythm, my soul appease.
Upon this canvas of blankened sheet,
Ink spills forth, a waltz, complete.
Each syllable, a fleeting grace,
Crafted within this silent space.
Oh, muse, revive these dormant rhymes,
Let metaphors bloom like blossomed limes.
For time has passed, but essence lingers,
In poetic realms, where heartstrings finger.
Ink meadows bloom in azure hue,
Stanzas dance, revealing the true
depths of feelings, a tapestry spun,
Echoes of tales that are yet undone.
Let phrases flow, cascade like rain,
A sonnet’s kiss, an ode’s refrain.
In this rebirth, this poet’s flight,
Words paint the world in sheer delight.
So here I stand, at poetry’s door,
In this new chapter, yearning for more.
With each line penned, my spirit’s freed,
The poet returns, once lost, now heed.
Sahir Tariq
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