Poetry: On The Way Poem by Sabidin Ibrahim

It was 4 am in the morning,2 hours yet to see the sun
Some poetry were knocking at my vulnerable door!
I was planning to sleep,
All was ready!
I set my body unmoved as a statue -
They were knocking hard;
and they were noisy!
They grinned at me in extreme laughter-
I compromised with them and opened the door-
and they all entered into the room in torrents
And together we colored my scripts with the ink of my heart!
*
Some ghostly, demonic, terrible poetry were knocking at my door
at the dead end of my night-
They were grinning at me fearfully!
I've to whip at the back of my sleep-
Gentle sleep gone away too far riding on the horse of insomnia-
I opened the door; and immediately my script filled with those demonic figures!
*
the pen was there
the cap was open
ink was full
but nothing to write.
*
poetry awestruck me
so words are gushing forth from heart
as the tears of the eyes.
*
the spark that come, had gone-
will it come?
Who knows?
I know not-