Jamshedpur, Jharkhand, India

The Ink, The Reflection and The Realm

Sitting by the desk, gazing towards the dusky sunset,

With the blank paper in front and the unmovable pen by my hand,

I tried to pen down the worlds of the fabled images,

But nothing came, not a single word, not a single frame.

All seemed lost, and there seemed nothing to gain,

The ideas dried out and the thought went in vain,

Suddenly! something passed, something behind my back,

Raising a lot of questions in my tiny thinking brain.

The room went dark and everything seemed quiet,

There was something for sure, but nothing seemed right,

The rushing of the wind, the ticking of the clock,

A figure passed once again and the door seem locked.

Straining my eyes hard, I tried to look around,

Was it a ghost or an imaginary figure unknown?

Was  it a cunning fox with burning fire in its deadly eyes?

Or, was it a gallantly proud unicorn winged flying high?

Across clearings, an eye, and a widening deepening desire,

The unconsciousness stroked like a sharp hot stare of fox,

The earthly window is starless still with awakening dawn,

The page still blank and the soul still seeking its horizon…