There's this inkling, baffling to ink. Faint, yet not kept unnoticed. like a touch that wipes my tears, like a tune that I tap my feet to, an amity that I cherish. I wonder, maybe joy; maybe just your mere presence.
[NaPoWriMo Poetry- 12] “Words”
Words are your minions. sleeping in tranquility, inside the cozy cover of a book. Lying silently on its pages, like bed. But when you tickle them with your sight, wake them up with your attention, they pop up in zeal. Their master has arrived. They grab their tools, and build your world of fantasy, pave …