An Echo...

I resemble a mirror, in the life of truth,

I am so literal and precise.

I rumble only what I hear,

I come as soft thunder with no prejudices.

They call me an echo, reverberation of feelings;

I dwell in the golden meadows addressed ‘everywhere’.

I rush upon the call of any soul,

Nothing do I personally declare.

Tender ears are mine, to detect your voice.

The voice that surrounds me.

Out of the millions to push away,

That sneakily confound me.

Rest is my biggest enemy,

For never does it lends me its hands of hospitality.

Paid when I am valued or eulogized,

I am the speaking silence of the reality.

I am just an unadorned thing out of nowhere;

I have no taste for grief or glee.

I still strive to acknowledge,

The orders of yours I abide reluctantly.

I am a forever thing universal throughout,

I sincerely crave for my value.

I travel gently along with the zephyr,

And am worth ‘cause I am so true!