No papers left to write,
Ink in the pen has dried,
The hands don’t hold a pen,
Heart helpless and tied;

Tearful eyes shut tight,
No papers left to get wet,
Tired eyes stuck at the door,
With helpless heart I wait;

I long for your sight,
Dim flame of hope alive,
For you will one day,
Give the helpless heart might.

Copyright 2016 Chitkala Mulye (Chitkala Aditosh