Imp

(Thus, it was told

Through songs and tales old

That apart from the Devil and God

There live creatures who turn rocks to gold.)

With a pallet full of colours

And a heart as crazy as lovers,

Thought I could paint this weeping world,

End stories happily with glittering diamond words.

I did my share of homework;

I once painted a smile on a crying duck

And upon a wandering clueless fish,

I poured golden aim to fulfil its’ wish.

Then I came across a broken heart,

To deal with humans; it’s one different art,

I emptied my pallet, skill and whole

But couldn’t put to rest that lacerated soul.

To a wailing child from a war raging land,

Offered colours on canvas and even on sand

But nothing could satiate those hurt filled eyes,

All my careful strokes seemed cast upon ice.

And for a lass who was beautiful, lost;

Many a cruel hand tampered her past,

She carried a broken spirit, a bleeding self,

Soothing magical hues I had not neither did any elf.

Oh! Elf and Wizard and creatures such,

Tales of happy endings I had heard much,

To them should I turn and refill my pallet;

To paint the missing parts, to fill every facet?

Impossible as it may seem,

I decided to end this clueless dream,

An hour past midnight, I stood by the river,

Ready to give up without a tear or a shiver.

(Thus, it was told

Through songs and tales old

That apart from the Devil and God

There live creatures who turn rocks to gold.)

Life but had another plan, saw a movement by the bank,

A creature short and stout, never seen in any rank,

Luminous, different and possessed an unearthly charm.

Imp, I thought and smiled; heart was turning warm.

Appeared mythical from the distance, could be the glow,

With hope I moved, towards Imp, calm and slow,

I wished only to borrow colours, magic and good will

For he mastered the rhythm of seven seas and of every hill.

It was time, I stood close, touched the Imps’ shoulder,

I felt the magic that could make the entire world shudder,

There stood the answer, the one pallet I was looking for,

I will get back to the world and endless colours I will pour.

Freezing time, the Imp turned, my heart too stopped beating,

The saviour, the hero, here’s the key to end all suffering.

Face to face we stood, the Imp was looking at me,

Alas! I drowned, those still eyes; I was looking at me!

Listen oh! dear world,

In case you missed those songs and tales old,

That through our deeds, thus the Devil and God,

We are the Imp who can turn rocks to gold!