Baskadia

The Picture

A pen floating on the sea, undulating it majestically, its surrounding waters have been turn black ink, it moves on the water with a purpose, yet you couldn’t be certain where it destination lies. Yet again you question yourself will it reach its destination without spilling out all of its in, nay the pens reserve is in abundance and the reserve darker than black gold, it will reach the shore of an island of papers, from there, it will serve humanity quite well.

The Poem

The ocean of ink;

The waves of words;

We paddle with the pen;

To where the blue waters meets the yellow sun at the horizon;

White paper piled island lies there;

Ink waters innately guided;

The island welcomes the pen who came with souvenir from his odyssey;

The Dialed Down

Water of ink;

Waves of words;

We row with the pen;

When the sun is at the horizon;

Stack of white papers are there;

Ink basically seeks papers;

Stack of papers receives the pen;

The pen that came with wise ideas from a thoughtful mind;