He writes what he sees
And in that, what he feels
Nothing dictates him
But his conscience and will
His mind works furtively
He wakes up in his dreams
Everything is noticed
Nothing shall he miss
A new world he creates
And compels us to see
So that we understand
What really are we
The vision that he shows
He reaches there before
If we read through his heart
We get a glimpse of his thoughts
He writes not to impress
But to satisfy his thirst
As he writes, he drinks
Yet it quenches not his thirst
He lives in our memories
And we live in his works
His works live eternally
Thus immortal we become!
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