Wednesday, 10 November 2010

The Fire of Pen

An ember erupts

In the eyes of the pen

That pens the fate of

The universe

The ember flames

From a hot inspiration

Of the wind’s

Blowing awareness

Aghast was the fingertip

That flaunted, lived

And ordered as the judge

Of the universe

The fingertip got roasted

And shivered in the fire

Of the pen’s wrath,

Trembled all inside

There grabs the pen

A sword to chop, slice

And dump the fingertip

And jumps up hysterically

Stretch and tighten

The nerves of the pen

Bulge out the eyes

Its ire becomes lava

The pen sets out on war

Its throat spits words

That ignites more

Like a rain of fire

It’s only astonishment

In each and every sound

That is heard around

And each sight that is seen

There turns around the pen

That was the sharp weapon

All the way through; against,

With the same wrath of fire

Recalls the fingertip

All those past moments

The dance of the pen

Performed over its spin

And the pen was thrust

A good step forward

While the body receded

Seven steps backward

Remembers the fingertip

How the colour of letters

Faded and died down

Only on the papers

It’s now a disturbing memory

That the pen was moved on

And made to dance unending,

Uncaring of its body and soul

I’m ready to melt myself

In the heat of the pen

That can’t be drenched,

Also ready to shed my body

I will resurrect enkindling

A new light deep inside me

Let it brighten up the

Darkest of its corners

By Ismail Meladi

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