White In quiet corners, bound and small, I wait to | English Poetry

"White In quiet corners, bound and small, I wait to catch your every call. With pages pure, a canvas wide, I guard the whispers you confide. A treasury of thoughts and dreams, Of fleeting moments and secret schemes. Each word you etch, a life it claims, A silent witness to joys and pains. Through ink-stained nights and candle's glow, I feel the tides of your heart’s flow. From triumph's roar to sorrow’s plea, I cradle all, your memory’s key. Years may pass, and hands may fade, Yet in my arms, your past is laid. A timeless mirror, a faithful friend, I hold your stories till the end. ©Avinash Jha"

White In quiet corners, bound and small,
I wait to catch your every call.
With pages pure, a canvas wide,
I guard the whispers you confide.

A treasury of thoughts and dreams,
Of fleeting moments and secret schemes.
Each word you etch, a life it claims,
A silent witness to joys and pains.

Through ink-stained nights and candle's glow,
I feel the tides of your heart’s flow.
From triumph's roar to sorrow’s plea,
I cradle all, your memory’s key.

Years may pass, and hands may fade,
Yet in my arms, your past is laid.
A timeless mirror, a faithful friend,
I hold your stories till the end.

©Avinash Jha

Avinash Jha

White In quiet corners, bound and small, I wait to catch your every call. With pages pure, a canvas wide, I guard the whispers you confide. A treasury of thoughts and dreams, Of fleeting moments and secret schemes. Each word you etch, a life it claims, A silent witness to joys and pains. Through ink-stained nights and candle's glow, I feel the tides of your heart’s flow. From triumph's roar to sorrow’s plea, I cradle all, your memory’s key. Years may pass, and hands may fade, Yet in my arms, your past is laid. A timeless mirror, a faithful friend, I hold your stories till the end. ©Avinash Jha