I walked I walked

I walked I walked what wealth it brought,

To me it was journey that I thought.

One day including my schedule I wonder,

To the shelf of the books which glittered.

I brought books and started to search,

What I was but in me it was merged.

In it there where my writings became old,

Reading them I got some comfort of bold.

The poems written by me were nearly eleven,

Reading them I got back my passed heaven.

BY- YASHRAJ BIRARI