I force upon this parchment, a verse in vain-
With mental fetters upon my literary farthings,
I pen this with only experience to gain.
For I long to witness a verse written,
But mine own eyes fear
To read what has been bitten-
Upon this parchment so dear.
Words I have chosen so fastidiously
Do not my intellect erupt;
Yet with a mere Dictionary at hand, mysteriously-
My mind's tranquility they disrupt.
Oh! These words, I tell you!
They do a writer from his sleep wake;
Curdling his predicament in moments so few-
And forcing him to a poem of them, make.
For I have longed to pen a verse-
And none to materialize,
Until I break away from this hearse-
Of literary abstinence, and my poem I realise.
Dolashree K Mysoor
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