When my heart is hammered
It cries with melancholic voice
Like a musical instrument
That floats ever in existence.
Like a musical instrument
When it’s string is stretched
Emits vibrating sound
Then my heart reproduce
Rhythm of life to an ionic thought
Voice of pain is never understood
Never it is heard by any court
When my heart is annoyed with surveillance
I tamper all discourses of my life
To sustain the presence of life
And for tremor to endear voice of pains.
The casual reader will find this to be an intriguing allegorical foray into deeper existential realms.
Thank you so much Sir for your valuable words.
An intensely philosophical write. Well done!
Thanks so much.
Powerful and poignant. Liked a lot.
Thanks so much.
Thought- inducing philosophical musings on the Anatomy of Pain.
Thanks so much.