The sweet language of poetry,
The hidden mystery of life,
And the symmetry of the geometry.
Couldn’t comprehend what was wrong,
Where was the so-called skill or talent gone?
Out of reach and completely beyond,
There was nothing left but the chaos of the silent dawn.
Days went by and not a clue of the unknown,
The turmoil of the mind felt nothing less than a cyclone,
The efforts to have it back slowly faded down,
Not even craving silence as the disorder in me drowned,
Just then out of oblivion emerged miracles all around.
