These days words just don’t come,
It is as though my brain is playing a pun.
Scattered thoughts and vague images,
The connections to them are like illegible traces.
A ‘writer’s block’ is its fancy name,
To call that; would it be sane?
For, strings of thoughts keep lingering on.
Thoughts of color and grey,
Thoughts of bloom and decay,
But words- Oh! Look how these days they swiftly sway away.
This sudden wave of disconnection,
The imbalance in the ‘not so perfect’ concoction,
Wonder what would revive the words in hibernation?
Myriads of images still flash by each second,
A ‘block’ or not? Alas! The predicament.