The Broken Effigy of a Poet...

Pic. Courtesy: Internet

And he kept the pen aside...


The pages tattered,
scattered.

And then there was a violent
laughter...
and then cries...
The cry turned into silence...
pitch dark silence...
The silence that chokes man...

and we drank...
we drank to his freedom...
we drank to his victory..
to his death...
to immortality.


Cheers,

His pen...cold again...
inkless...
lifeless...