Blank Page.
Again I have to cross
A blank page for travel
A wide desert spread
Spaces to far away lands
Which seems even sterner
For the words to instruct
Vehicle of subtler thought
Movement for the select.
Perhaps with a magic
Hand of chance
I will take plunge
Into the inkwell
My fingers wide spread
To write
To find hidden furies
Being born of some dread.
With my solitude
I will come alive
With devilish wide smile
To bail out
Into a liberation
An antiquity of versification.
Copyright © Durlabh Singh | Year Posted 2008
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