My mind today is still like calm water.
No waves of thoughts, no stream of paras.
Bloodless fingers holding the pen lifelessly, verses are needed to be weaved tirelessly.
No imagination excites my mind,
inspiration from fictions is getting hard to find.
The shade of blue is fading today,
unable to paint the pages from ashen gray.
Tried to reminisce about love but all in vain,
then erased the proposal as too much pleasure ends in pain.
Neither stuck in deep introspection, nor am i sailing on cloudnine.
Despite tickling my wit for hours, the colours of blue and gray are refusing to entwine.