A charming darkness, knitted
stars bright,
I don’t have anything to write
today…..
I don’t have a word, to say my
way….
Is it that I am feeling blue?
Or some other reason, I have no
clue.
I have nothing to pen down,
No words in my basket to weave
around….
Is it the silence that making me
bound?
Or is it the pain, which I have
yet not found?
I don’t feel like lifting my pen
today,
I love my pencil, both drifting
away….
Is it the solitude that has become
my friend?
Or is it the night not ready to
end?
Is it the insomnia that has
intoxicated my nerves?
I am plain and blank….
Has nothing to serve.
It’s 2 O’ clock of a winter
night,
A charming darkness, knitted
stars bright,
I don’t have anything to write
today…..
I don’t have a word, to say, my
way….
Then is this how your silence talks?
ReplyDeleteOr is it just an empty page speaking?
Whatever it is, is nice, and plenty.
:)
Blasphemous Aesthete
Hey der,
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:)
Is it the silence that making me bound?
ReplyDeleteOr is it the pain, which I have yet not found?
Loved this!
There is a lot even in your emptiness.
lovely post...
ReplyDeleteEven I dont have words how much I liked this !
ReplyDeleteyou have penned down it perfectly...still there is so much in that emptiness...can feel it too
:)
Iti..i loved your blog... i went some through posts and i liked every word.. :) The silence of your words created an aura!!!
ReplyDeleteCheers,