An artistic Dilemma

His mind was at war, he could hear the wicked laughter of Dilemma

He sat mindlessly at the table, with the urge to write… nothing.

Glimpses of flashback crossing his mind,

Oh! How stunning life was, once upon a time;

Dreaming of a paint stained hand feathering on the canvas,

But the constant reminder of treasuring a family, with his love,

Left his colourful dream faded out.

Homogenizing his days by listening to his boss’s screams,

To his fingers on the typewriter—

This was not what he wanted.

He had dreams of brushes stroking royal hues on parchments,

His unstable mind gave him puzzling visions of Monalisa at The Last Supper.

But he knew...

Without fortune and family, he would be in his pyre.

"What will you reap out of it? Money? Fame? Anything?”, the multitude sued him.

He knew it was like water without wetness.

'Resignation', in bright letters, the titled paper tempted him like anything,

But he sat mindlessly at the table, 

With the urge to write 

Nothing.