Broken Spell

Like an embryo bringing in pain his mum to her knees

A Poetess’ beats screamed to breathe freedom-breeze

Waking behind her tired lids the Angel of Sleep

To a mission of carrying out a peaceful delivery of her screaming deep

Faithfully he flew the dawn seeking virgin zones

Capturing moon’s last ray fallen on precious stones

And back pouring light-drops in her inkwell

To baptize every beat on farewell

“Explosion Thumb” painting by Salvador Dali

Sneaking through her window, the sun touched her face

Whispering through her hair, “rise and shine your grace”

She opened her eyes with a smile to the almost-forgotten-sound

Sensing a warmth spinning through her insides; long-lost yet now found

Lost in thoughts surfing her mind and threatening to spill

To her den she strode looking for a badly-missed quill

Over the mahogany desk, she sat shedding her years

Few smiles mingle with countless tears

Finally her spirit broke free from the grasp of hell

Vivid rhymes danced over lines celebrating a broken spell

Kept the papers piling and time ticking till she lost count of the two

Once found:
there was a finished story as the Angel of Sleep back to her cold eyes flew

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