The Ink Markings.

By Aloushya Jes

The ink dripped from the tip of the pen.

The white paper was decorated with,

the markings of the ink

It was like blushes creeping on,

the cheeks of the sheet.

Not pink-tinted but dark tinted.

It was glamorous, but yet;

it said about that vagueness,

of the mighty future ahead.

The markings shone in the light;

like the sword of a warrior.

Heroic ink drops, they make histories.

The inclined valley of sorrows,

Were sketched by the ink.

It missed no spots.

That’s how magnificent is,

the mighty pen is.

It's powerful as a shining sword.

By Aloushya Jes