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?
I know not-
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