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The halt


Sitting at the end of the day,
when lights wrestle
the opaque darkness;
I try to comprehend
the vague thoughts;
biting me,
every depth in me.

But I lose sight
of the flowing fervour;
and the profound insides !!

This sudden whim
yielding me,
unlike me;
contradicting me;
takes me
into a bare horizon.

Of conglomerate intuition,
mismatched frequencies,
confused perceptions;
the panorama,
bleary and haze.

I take my pen to etch.
But the friction builds –
as the tip on the paper,
deadens the mechanism –
the current of write !!
And the canvas stares unclothed,
as words go astray.

My pen drops
my hands tremble;
for the words in my heart
play anagram
through my veins,
ambiguous and apathetic;
and my eyes unspoken
tears across
the murky breadths;
to its nothingness.

I surrender
disgraced and at mercy
of destitute wordings
as it engulfs me again..
“The Writer’s Block”

And the lights,
wrestle and tussles
the opaque darkness !!


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