The Birth

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Not always does my pen go on
Not everyday I write
But at times, when I'm alone
And with myself begin to fight
I stray into the oblivion
And see an unseen light.
I hear strange voices
Spoken in unknown tongues
I feel the world around me
Has transformed overnight.
Every object I then sense
Inspires me with great delight
And thoughts start pouring
Deep from within my mind.
I then struggle day and night
To scribble those ideas bright.

(That is pretty much how
Some of my poems have born.)

-Siddartha Pamulaparty
April, 2007.

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