For the Pen

Lest the pen becomes a slave, and the ink changes its hues without consent

There is a conscious appeal of the heart to be loyal to the true sentiments

Without suffocating the words with a deluge of emotions, the night is reliable to revise the lines

Reticent fingers may hold back the flow of words which can bridge the rifts

There will be times when the pen abdicates the power to scrape away unwanted superficiality

Sincerity hides behind the veil of doubts when the voice within mock the cowardice

Even the dwelling feels unwelcome; also, the night outside transforms into a soul aloof

It takes courage to break away from the mould to save the pen from being a slave


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