With A Dark Anvil Poem by Prayag Saikia

Donning the desire of an invincible prisoner
I try my verses
between the lines of an old book.

Ink and paper are not beyond reach;
yet I pick up a lead.

For a dark trail,
a dark anvil.

A prison is an ideal place for writing,
where seedlings inspire
the sorrounding walls to crack.

Very often I imagine
Marco Polo in prison,
Voltaire in prison,
Nehru in prison,
And in a prisonless world,
I seclude myself to a cloister.

Here words do not die in a stampede.