• arundhathy_gopakumar 24w

    It makes me wonder
    how many words must've been killed;
    how many tales left untold
    how many poems left unwritten
    When a pen was forced to stop.
    How many flowers would never know
    how beautiful they looked
    How many lovers would never know
    how intense were their love.
    How many eyes would never know
    how sweet were their tears
    and how the wind would never know
    the power of it's music.
    But those words,those tales,those poems
    which dies,untold, unwritten
    must've been the most beautiful ones
    since they weren't written but Felt with a heart.
    The heard ones might be sweet
    But the unheard, unwritten;are the sweetest