The Perpendicualr Universe Diary

I wrote this one while I was enjoying the break I cracked during a festive season. I was home looking for something to do, whilst my mother hummed to her chores. I was reminded of an intact diary I had seen lying around in my living room for ages. As I turned its leaflets my heart inadvertently drifted towards poetry. Sad white pages they seemed. They wished for ink and lo! the poet in me groped for a pen and inundated the famished land with blue from the skies. I breathed the following poem on its first page:

          Blank Pages in Dust

Dazed I am to see you blank,
Your empty beckons my crowd,
And this itch in my hand I get,
To fill you up with my loud.

Every leaf that croons
And weeps in tears,
For a pen of ink,
For a pen of smears.

The Whites, they whisper
In hushed voices of despair,
They long for a soul
To brim them with a layer

Of stories, of tales, of legends
That shatter souls and wrench guts,
That reek of pain, that speak of truth
Of houses built with broken huts.

“Fill me up, O mighty sword!
I pray for blood.
Pray lance my skin,
I wish thy flood.”

Cries every void I see,
These leaves in dust,
They will die unheard,
Fill ’em with life I must.

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Comments
  1. Diwya Singh says:

    Awesome dude !! Keep up good work !!

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