The Midnight Pen

 At the times,

Paper and ink wait for the words,

To fall out in color.

Waiting for a pinch of intension

To make the words flow in sentences.

 

At the times,

The sky signals to shut down the world,

And the highbrows wake up with worries of

Heaven lines on;

Loading the tides of chimeras.

 

At the times,

The paper stains.

The words of reality,

The words of Imagination and

The words of dichotomy.

 

At the times,

Reality reflects its effects,

And the stains of nosiness  

Resonates for fairness.

Shows a pen at war.

 

 At the times,

The Imagination inks in,

Where imagination is more beautiful and ideal than a reality.

Adds quintessential hope

Giving sets of dictums.

 

At the times,

The dichotomy of strains

Fall in

To entertain the tired souls;

Adds a melody of fun for a while;

 

At the times,

The day falls for the night

And the paper fills with the boons

That lets the reader keep turning

To live every stained page till it ends.