Love Of A Writer - Pen

Reluctant to inhale the novelty of the world and diffuse its fragrance,

A newborn bud suffocated within, feared opening up, too timid and shy,

Overlapped the dried tears, silent roars, calmed anger, the real me vaporised in essence,

The one whom I once hated the most is the soulmate now, all other bonds glitter with a lustrous die,

My metallic pen owns a golden heart, rusted humans gilded with goodness corroded my innocence.

Like the sharp blades of cascade falling from a great height,

Splitting the chest of stubborn rocks, kissing the depth of poised waves,

Like the tiniest point getting targeted by the sharp beam of razor light,

The ink of my pen is such, through thy damp eyes, seeping into heart, it paves,

The way to the abyss of thy soul, eroding darkness, to unleash thy own light.

The inky wine it spills on the virgin pages toxicates those who read and preserve,

It bleaches off the scars of wounded hearts, words turn out to be a healing potion,

I have risen in love unlike others who stumble upon and fall over the slippery pebbles of love,

An immortal holds my mortal breaths fighting against the gravity of death's cushion,

I meditate in the arms of my addiction, gain freedom in it's slavery, nothing better than the heavens could ever serve.