Something more!

I sat to write something

Something that would tranquilize the readers

Something that would satiate the inner me

With joy which knows no boundary

 A notion all at once dawned on me

Writing is such a bliss and glory

I can delve inside myself

And bring out all I have ever wanted to

I stop and fantasize about writing

I stop and think highly

Of every piece of writing I have stumbled upon

And deem the collective endeavor by everybody

Put into oeuvre and creativity

Hundreds and thousands of years

Some fictional and some bona-fide tears

Would have been crafted

To make this basket

This basket may not itself realize its preeminence

What it gives

When it becomes a confidante

For a lone wolf

When it takes a crestfallen

Into its jovial realm

When it opens a whole new world

For somebody who abhors the existing

The basket may not itself discern its virtue

There are many who consider it

Something more than literature

More than a habit

More than a hobby

Something more,

You don’t need to be an adept

To know what it implies

A neophyte can too if he tries

But only those who have experienced it

 Can know, can appreciate

Can love

And comprehend the true meaning of all above.