Untiring Effort Poem by Priyaranjan Ojha

Pregnant I was
But to give birth to a child
Proved so tiresome!
A miraculous might came up then,
And took shelter in my vein.
Slowly I was dying of her absence,
Took up the pen to find
A release of my emotional baggage.
I wrote thousands of poems
But they remained untasted!
I composed hundreds of songs
And they turned unheard!
My earnest efforts went in vain,
Still I aspired for the rays to gain.