When dawn arrived, the writer did not.
His eyes still stitched to the night
where imagination runs barefoot,
refusing to wear the slippers of logic.

Meanwhile, the keepers of platforms
sat polishing their invisible swords,
seeking to puncture rebellious commas
and imprison adjectives that refuse to stand in line.

They draw battle plans on whiteboards,
with arrows, circles, squares—
geometry inspired by fear—
for they believe every metaphor is a weapon
and every joke a silent revolution.

But a quill is a sly creature.
It wanders, smirks, spills ink on their maps,
turning war strategies into unintentional poetry.

They brought laws,
they brought warnings,
they brought the mighty button of “Account Restricted”.

Yet the quill laughed like a drunk philosopher
and wrote a new world on the margins.

For how shall any empire
police a dream that shapeshifts?
How shall they arrest a metaphor
that has no fingerprints?

And thus began the Quill Wars—
not with swords and thunder—
but with silence, satire,
and the quiet rebellion of ink.

#writersrevolt #quillwars #satire #creativity
#midnightwriting #inkrebellion #literaturehumour #writersofindia #uncagedthoughts

*Episode 3 to be continued…*