It feels so good to write again.
After a dirge of an year or so
I seek my lost treasure;
Riding on the reins of fancy,
My soft fingures
Grip my golden weapon;
Like a horse harnessed
I assume the sovereign
To reign my kingdom
Or does it lead me
A cart at the horse's mercy?
I guess any amateur
Would have felt similiar
When his eyes feasted on
Some creative stone
Found by chance
Along the way.
It feels queer to strongly bond
With some trivial again
And it dawned on me
That the urge to write
Was an unfading flower
Of charm and grace
Lending me breath,
Resurrecting my thoughts,
Painting my world,
Polisihing my new found stone
To a gem of my choice
After a dirge of an year or so
I seek my lost treasure;
Riding on the reins of fancy,
My soft fingures
Grip my golden weapon;
Like a horse harnessed
I assume the sovereign
To reign my kingdom
Or does it lead me
A cart at the horse's mercy?
I guess any amateur
Would have felt similiar
When his eyes feasted on
Some creative stone
Found by chance
Along the way.
It feels queer to strongly bond
With some trivial again
And it dawned on me
That the urge to write
Was an unfading flower
Of charm and grace
Lending me breath,
Resurrecting my thoughts,
Painting my world,
Polisihing my new found stone
To a gem of my choice