No angst as divine, as an author’s despair –
“Aah! A little less here, a bit more there…”
Never ends, this chase, of precision
A bard is, as good, as his indecision!

Can he ever, cage them, in his ‘scope of work’
Alas! That’s not, how, thoughts give in!
Beyond totality’s façade, which abysses lurk
Are best summed-up, in his flair’s chagrin!

The pithy “Animal Farm”, or the wordy “War & Peace”,
Was Orwell, wittiest, Tolstoy vainly verbose!
Never found, in discourse, that masterpiece
Which follows, frugal laws, for all one knows!

What could, cut to size, a willful wordsmith;
His endless lust, to embark, on epics!
Still worth its while, this bugaboo, this myth
This cherished bane of, Word Economics!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra