Creator Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

The fingers close on the keyboard
With the urge to string alphabets
To vent the pouring from within
And to reach the final pleasure!
The sad macabre extensions of the hands
Stop in the silent gush of hollowness,
The tabs are not pressed,
No clicks rent the heart's void!
The emotions sinfully sick
Rebelliously withdraw,
The fingers reach out
For a vial of intoxication
To heal all wounds!
The fingers start tapping….