Poem of the Poet

Me? What to tell of me!

I am versatile.

I turn as a brook, as a mirror,

As a snake, what the poet

Makes me in just a while!

 

I have no origin,

No path to lie,

I do what the poet makes me.

I am born as he writes

When he finishes I die.

 

Yet, I live immortal

In the words that he writes.

Powerful than anything

I rest and relive

When one recites!

-Tanuj Khandelwal

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