Working on clock, without even a minute to rest,
As sleepless eyes dimmed,as smiles fade,as tear drops drench the pillow,
Sitting on the broken chair,holding onto the broken brush,
I write,stroke after stroke..
Questions,answers,palace politics,harem cries,secret services,
Quantum physics and teleportation spells..
My master want to know everything..
But donot even know how to be a human..
And this wageless labourer,sits alone,in a broken hut..
With a single lamp, writing pages upon pages..
As if a machine..
Struck in repeat..
Without any wages
