Taking the quill in hand..
attempting to pen you down..
trying to weave random thoughts..
in a meaningful timeless bound..
It seems as though Words..my friends..
have deserted me for time being..
maybe they have better places to be..
or are resting for a while..
So taking the quill in hand again..
knowing they won’t be able to resist..
it is the only way to coax them back..
into a flow and on the tip of my Quill..