A glass, once broken at the brink
Can no longer serve a drink...
They say!!!
Broken ... And gone forever!!
But he, the man with a broken brink
Cursing himself in remorseful limns
Uttered his lonely shivers in ink!
But all those words just cut him deeper
Bruised and shattered the unharmed parts...
Making his soul even weaker!
So, he hastily collected all pieces
Whispering self pampering verses
To the blank paper pieces!
But his glass like past
Hurt him again... While collecting those pieces of glass!
And so he melted oneself into unity
No brim... No glass...
A single soul!
Away from all hurt and darkness of the past.
And hence, I limn
The story of how a pen,
Mended his master's broken brink!
My friend,
The broken brink might not serve your drink
But it is strong enough to make up for the crown of a king!
