No confessions

I wait for you each day

but you never come to me

somehow I find your way 

but you are never free

anxious though I stand 

you always seem so sure

when more attention I demand

for yours I remain still poor

you never give sure sign

yet my heart is ever still

and always shall it pine

with mine puerile free will

I am in ache arrested 

unable to break your hold

all good sense divested

for confession: not so bold

 

Reviews

[Seshat Nidaba]

You have more devotional power than the majority of poets, modern day Mirabai, I bid thee, come to life!

Check, for new undiscovered talent! I like your style very much.