Ansh David

A hungry mind


Each passing week, I take my pen in hand,
To capture thoughts that in my mind do grow.
On topics vast as sea or grains of sand,
I weave my words, their essence to bestow.

What truths I’ve found, what wonders I have seen,
Are shaped and crafted, bound in written lore.
Through fleeting hours, where thought and heart convene,
I pen my musings, seeking ever more.

Oh, reader, here assembled is the hoard,
A trove of lines to stir both heart and head.
These humble works, to thee I now afford,
My labors laid where curious souls are led.

So take these words, and journey where they lead,
A garden grown from every planted seed.