here moves the pen
words emerge ,
an intrinsic art
in an ink of sadness…
as the verse loses its rhythm
the imagery gets tarnished,
caged get the free thoughts
once were they flying birds
dreams of myriad colours
vanish
in darkness of the hue
searches the mind
an inspiration to continue…
moves my pen
scribbles the mind in air
words emerge out of nowhere.
soumyav 