Waking up drowsy,
early at twelve, noon;
The spark is nurturing
up from the deep inside,
Let’s start the
procrastinating-voyages;
To the miles long untraveled-white-pages.
With the pen, like a
mighty sword in the hand;
Caught into the storm,
struggling with the mind,
Doping with hard
coffee, the crucial night;
Hoping that it will
set awake till the fight.
Bleary magical fumes,
emerged out of the book;
You, the book, gave
me-the insomniac, sleeping pill,
We went to kill the
silverfish and earn a few pointers;
But who knew, we would
end up with all chatters.
On the doomsday, the mind
was gloomy, more the eyes were sleepless;
In the wee hours,
preparedness was at stake, but fearlessly, we were fearless,
At the battle, rival
warriors seem the same, belonging to a hoax territory;
We had to save
ourselves from the spearheading backlogs with bravery.
Captured the land ahead,
till the passing line, we knew how to trick them down;
Spilled the blue
blood, on the barren white-land, we knew how to kill, scribbling down,
And when the war has ended,
we pray the god for the victory on our side;
Heir to the throne is
yet awaited, but this journey was hell of a ride.
Don’t know how do we
made it through;
Don’t know how do we
made it through,
But one thing is
certain, that is for sure;
We made it through
somehow.
