The Fire of Pen
An ember erupts
In the eyes of the pen
That pens the fate of
The universe
The ember flames
From a hot inspiration
Of the wind’s
Blowing awareness
Aghast was the fingertip
That flaunted, lived
And ordered as the judge
Of the universe
The fingertip got roasted
And shivered in the fire
Of the pen’s wrath,
Trembled all inside
There grabs the pen
A sword to chop, slice
And dump the fingertip
And jumps up hysterically
Stretch and tighten
The nerves of the pen
Bulge out the eyes
Its ire becomes lava
The pen sets out on war
Its throat spits words
That ignites more
Like a rain of fire
It’s only astonishment
In each and every sound
That is heard around
And each sight that is seen
There turns around the pen
That was the sharp weapon
All the way through; against,
With the same wrath of fire
Recalls the fingertip
All those past moments
The dance of the pen
Performed over its spin
And the pen was thrust
A good step forward
While the body receded
Seven steps backward
Remembers the fingertip
How the colour of letters
Faded and died down
Only on the papers
It’s now a disturbing memory
That the pen was moved on
And made to dance unending,
Uncaring of its body and soul
I’m ready to melt myself
In the heat of the pen
That can’t be drenched,
Also ready to shed my body
I will resurrect enkindling
A new light deep inside me
Let it brighten up the
Darkest of its corners
By Ismail Meladi
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