You chose the balmy ink to delineate,
a dismal, (formerly unevoked ) cry;
then appalled at the sketchy truth, did to bits separate,
the frail parchment with fingers spry.
What started in an inspired hour,
proved taxing and intricate to upkeep;
colours and lines bore uncanny power,
to disrupt, to reveal…
Cowed all the while by the staring, laved fragments asunder,
you hurriedly blotted a design – common and precarious;
then lit a fire to demolish the stochastic remnants, and smother
that death-ennobled glare of the decried and burning fumiferous.
© Isha Garg
Doodle by Isha Garg