Another imaginative day (Poem)

The drama unfolded,
as the un-finished memories woke up.
writer wears the robes of rejuvenation,
resurrecting after the night sins.
he sidelines,
the sweet aroma of wet earth,
the dreams, that ruined the buzz of silence.
the,
cellist of creativity,
rushes into un-looked empty pages,
to fan-out a poem from fear,
while melting under a cold candy.
thoughts,
however,
slipped away like a desert reptile,
pulled down by the “g” force of neurons,
or by the salty emotions,
into the pockets of a foreclosed denim jacket.
writer,
still, stretches the defeat,
and travels the highways of procrastinated paths,
into the netherworld of monologues.
little did he know,
the strength of ionic and the covalent bonds of,
the null and void.
spiraling up again,
he strips the petals of the pen,
yet,
the drowned poem,
could not come out of the bottomless buoyancy,
despite,
the cranking horn of lazy breadth and the,
formatting of un-saved memory files.
probably,
it’s trapped in the tropospheric timidness.
thus,
I ended the show,
as the cyclonic heart was tired of latent passivity,
I retract,
into,
the condolence of pillows.

-Slipping into soberity.

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