Empty Pages

Those empty pages, 

Drag my fingers, 

Towards the pen, 

I pick it up, 

Inking my heart's pain, 

I keep on inking, 

Inking and inking, 

Until I realize, 

My fingers are bleeding, 

Spots of blood,

Scatters on the paper,

Depleting the crave,

Of jotting down the surd,

I pause for a second, 

And I'm lost, 

I hunt for words, 

High and low, 

But it's too late, 

The two different pain clashes, 

Creating a commotion, 

Mental pain conceives the physical, 

Nevertheless, emotions remain frozen.