The flow of my poetry is such
It always wonders to the source
Of words and the feelings which
Governs them.

The genesis of a stream of thought
Behind from her smiling eyes wrought
With thundering emotions and
Acceptance of errors.

The midlife begins to describe
The deeper wedges driven into this heart
As poetry ages and matures
A thousand sufferings it endures

My poetry is sublime and eternal
Flowing from a deep valley
Soaring to the mountains
A flood of emotions it entails
The flow of poetry is not much

It stops with the thoughtlessness
And the thoughts about which it had all been
They are born and killed for you every moment.

creator: Sahar.