Poetic Liberation

- Poetic liberation - Poetry is not possible when I am not possessed, The Song has left me to flow through me as I am empty. My emptiness is my self bare, open to life. The cold wind of North seized my creative Mind and it is assertive. My love did my spirit seal and I am a useless being. You are far, distance than 'the star ', and I am a burning pain, unable to bid goodbye. Your happiness may claim my departure and my waiting to end. Mind has lost its dreams, arresting and alluring, It is an empty shell, wordless, with nothing to attain, Still waiting passionless as if a foreign row, to see you happy and embracing life. Your being happy is my door as if a flower is waiting to bloom with shiny touch of the sun. The door is there upon the breast of a bird that Finds pleasure to sing at dawn. The door, sealed with thik fog , will break open With the beam of the day. Upon thy heart's panting passion will I dissolve and hence my liberation.