The Empty Chair

The Empty ChairI kept a chair beside my name, Though no one ever came. Still, every morning, I brushed the dust away.Some called it hope. Some called it pride. I never told them Who I was waiting for...

Md AyanI write poems that speak through silence, nature, and hidden meanings. Every verse is open to interpretation, inviting readers to find their own story. If my words stay with you after the last page, they've done their job.