Once again, do not know how this came to mind. It just came out and I typed it down.
Perfection
From the grins I recieve to the pain it inflicts,
You don't truly know how you come to mind.
Swaying back and forwards, love is an empty swing,
Our last hope for creation is laying in perfection.
As all faith turns an awkward direction,
Immediate hope conveys in an inward motion.
Twisting up all that is left,
You are perfection in its greatest form.
nagarajuavvari
nice wright
nice wright
heather wilkins
this is being creative. let your muse take you as far as she wants to go.
this is being creative. let your muse take you as far as she wants to go.
bruised-orange
a fine piece. your pen will lead you to many truths, let it flow, let it flow!
a fine piece. your pen will lead you to many truths, let it flow, let it flow!
seema chowdhury
very nice and honest.
very nice and honest.
Philip
From a simple word you create a fine poem. Well Done !
From a simple word you create a fine poem. Well Done !
Nilotpal Sarmah
An intriguing piece, friend. The third stanza is awesome "As all faith turns an awkward direction, Immediate hope conveys in an inward motion". Even after the loss of faith, hope keeps us going.
An intriguing piece, friend. The third stanza is awesome "As all faith turns an awkward direction, Immediate hope conveys in an inward motion". Even after the loss of faith, hope keeps us going.
great work & a wonderful read