Night Writer Poem by Thabitha Marakalala

Night writer

Her pen only hums
When the world is silent
So she awaits the sun
To give in to the darkness
Her titles glaze her sadness
In vains she snatches for ideas
She fiercely closes her eyes
In order to hear that first magic line
On blank white pages
She writes her tears
On reverse rhymes
She recites her fears

Her ink stalks death
She writes to keep the
Stars from falling
The heat is raising
Hear the past calling
Memories conscripted
To be deserted behind
Oh she can't play dead
To this thoughts
She is a writer
Her pen can't ignore the truth

On virgin pages
She flares up
Flames of Words
Blazing and broiling
Her pen knows no quit
Even if it burns her fingers
It's her era to have conversation
With the guardian of Words
Whispering to her mighty ink
Reflections of her bleating soul

Her quill utters to the soul
With mere words
It resuscitates
With just a few lines
It rejuvenates
With just a few rhymes
It harmonizes
Bringing tears to smile
Making pain glee
She is the night writer
Her wisdom comes from the stars...

Tbt-M