The introverted souls in strivings
As our intuition do always portrays
Which is the enigmatic truths
Verily none can be able to conceive
To what degrees is the intense of one’s pains
Succumb not for the inferiority syndrome
No matter how sucks your living might be
Even if you’ve felt a mountain of self-censor
Be not that inferior introvert.

When the yearnings seem unyielding
And the longings seem forever
Even in the contemporary concurrents
When the voice is being trampled
The heart might switched soften
The mind’s temple trembled abruptly
And this natural instincts
Has been eternally sealed
Never ever can it be dispelled.

Folks, wouldn’t it be a sage idea
If many a time this descended
In a barbarians crowded round table
Instead of leaving the table confusingly
To pack all that seems stupidly
Through your voice in their thinking
And transpired it into yours silence
Because silence is golden
When your conscious is frozen!