A poem about your first diary in which you wrote your first poem

Darkness was impaired in its transgression as hope seemed to find its way,

A startling realisation, a sight to behold, one might deem to say.

Anchoring on my seamless wisdom of light, I might find,

I waged on the onset of leaving my darkest ounces of life far behind.

--

Dreams that perspired in the eyes of a thirteen-year-old, the ones that didn't let me sleep,

Under the stars and over the sun, I prayed for a reality that ignited my soul to persevere,

To hone itself for the promises it is meant to keep.

Wars that end and peace that propels, one finds oneself under the eternal stream of the serene,

I wrote a morsel of myself in the diary, praying to live a life that belies to be unseen.

---

Where my words inspire and find their place, where my heart knows the worth that it holds,

Where my mind is without fear, of being unscathed by the opinions that others behold.

I scribbled about the forsighted glee of creating a tale that talks about love that forever lasts,

Only to foster into the writer whose fictional narrative was accoladed by thousands,

Where my yarn of glory found a place in their hearts.

----

As I run through the diary which embraced my teenage years,

With love for myself, I shed joyful tears.

If I could teleport back in time, I would tell her to embrace her depths and fall in love with her sensitivity.

Because that is what makes her an acclaimed poetess, the one who writes with every ounce of her authentic brevity

--

And I would tell her the things she was most ashamed of once became her prowess true,

Living in all the answered prayers she once dreamt of are all wonders that fostered within you.

Beckoning the darkness, hope found its way.

The girl who once read stories became the woman who weaved narratives that

Within the hearts of thousands, a home to forever stay

-Hridya Sharma