“If for a moment…” – Mohit Vamsi


If for a moment,
You think of me as a quill,
That had a heart which pumped,
Ink in place of blood,
And it flowed in my veins and arteries,
A quill with vibrant feathers,
Made of my dreams of the nighttime,
If words and thoughts,
Were my life and soul,
And the purpose of my being,
Was only to write;
Then in this moment,
I’m one of the living dead,
With no life or soul,
My veins devoid of blood,
A faded feather with stains of ink,
Drifting away into nothingness

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