By Sonakchi Pradhan
To those who wander through shadows unseen,
Who drift like whispers in a crowded dream,
Fear not the void where your name doesn't gleam,
You dwell in verses yet to be redeemed.
In the unwritten poems, your essence waits,
In lines unformed, beyond the gates,
Of ink and thought where meaning takes shape,
You'll find the self you long to create.
For every silent cry, a stanza grows,
In every ache, a quiet rhythm flows,
And though the world may not yet know,
The unwritten poems are your soul's echo.
So trust in the pen that hasn't yet moved,
In the blank spaces where you're still proved,
One day, those lines will rise and improve—
And in them, your spirit will find its groove.
By Sonakchi Pradhan
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