I started a poem that I could not complete,
I wrote a verse I could not sing,
I chased a dream I could not see,
I failed a test I could not attempt;
Life's stream passes me by,
And I know not where to rest my feet –
Darkness and light play games with me,
I know not how to move on, nor give up.
Verses have a way
of coming back when least expected;
Like unheard stories
they haunt the nights,
And plague the days
with hazy images.
My incomplete poem lingered on,
Till I could not rest, nor sleep;
And when I touched my pen today,
It flowed unabashed from the tip.