Breathless Savior

When I hold a paper piece and pen in my hand
Then my fingers starts to flow on them
Curiosity brings me close to them
Then I got myself in deep thoughts
To start writing an another feverish compose
My rhymes going to start after an each pause,
Its vital for the writer's blood
He Pours word from his mood
it is his peace of work on unattended wood
thought he keeps on dying what secret is behind
he found always some process in his mind,
he got start which comes to end sometime,
Though it comes like a sign
Its his breathless voice, it is striking and comes behind,
leaving insane standing behind,
he turn down and later he start looking words in the sand,
poet collects them, start plowing on the poetry land
He get used to grow his literature on this mother land,