The Dawn of a writer

I wanted to say something,

But at the same time I don't,

When the soft touch of Sun,

Blinds the sight of a million rules,

I find solitude in calmness of day,

But the million standards,

That are counted till today,

by the world,

I still adjust to soft edges of life,

Cause I still long for some

memories,

Who I was? Who I am?

I yearn more, is still a greedy sin.......

The fabric of time indulges with each colour,

With each stream of light,

That signs of my salvation,

"The dawn of writer",

As I carry the sweet flowers,

Covered with sour tastes of truth,

The breeze says it all

I want to tell you my deepest

secrets,

but I won't, If I do

I might burden you,

Is all I can think....

Every morning I look for myself,

With abundant ties of emotions,

And nothing out, not set myself as me....

That carries my soul as,

"The Dawn Writer"........