A habit prevails to talk to the inner self
where the questions are answered
and the answers revel
No curiosity ever takes a bad shape
the talks are woven
in a chiffon drape
No wrong -done is negative
no human is cursed
there’s only and only umpteen love
Why then this tongue doesn’t support the spring
stays uptight, blurts out all that brings
disharmony to the heart and to the soul
The internal is talk is fair, free of malice
the external one is a woven spree
like the cobwebs of an abandoned palace
Though late in thought
it stuck me true
to think before you speak gets one through
Don’t hold too long for someone in the heart
be a brave soldier who
plays his part
so fearlessly like a swooping eagle
down it comes with force on its prey
match its glory with subtle regale
Set the heart in a singing tone
let it be a melody,
not a melancholy groan
A sign of love and purity let the woven talk be
where the door doesn’t discriminate
among the different shades of key