My Broken Nib

 

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My nib just broke – I don’t know how?

It made me cry, a friendly bow.

Who knows what all it had to write,

But being my Sword – I lost a fight.

 

See he is bleeding – all in blue,

And still I am, without a clue.

For every wasted drop, his blood,

Should been a clink, a clatter – a Word.

 

Here lies my (s)word all clad in white,

And asks for fame in ink, so polite.

I want to weep, but have no ink,

For lies my friend, no nib – no clink.

 

With you, I won, I lost, I tied,

Both words and wars – garland of Pride.

Oh Death! Do wait, I have a pact,

A drop, my blood – his blood, please accept!!

 

Oh my Excalibur! – come back, fight back again,

Unlike your kins, who die for Worldly gains.

Don’t leave your friend in a battle, so cruel,

For I will die without your fuel.

 

Lie here our dreams – all shattered, all dry,

But for you and only you I’ll try.

For words are Immortal, nibs may blow,

No, Oblivion won’t touch you – a poet’s vow.

 

Written by Naman Gupta, Core Group Member of Vox Populi.

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