With blood and the afterbirth you came,
And from obscurity burst your name,
At a solemn pace you gather'd fame,
This's how i couldn't be the same...
I don't ever hurt, nor do i claim-
Every note in you makes me tame.
He(God) must concede the shame-
'If on and away goes a golden dame,
Not a solitary glimpse of a musical flame',
But you're never ever to blame...
I adore a moment in your own heaven,
I await it, my whole heart given.
Oh! You've turned twenty-seven,
When i am rarely a man even...
(12 March,2011)
Michael Takhellambam
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-your-28th-birthday-addressed-to-shreya-ghoshal-my-model-singer/
