And its been so long
Since the nib touched the parchment
And words flow
Of their own accord
My muse, my vice
You are my story, my device
I write for you, my love
Yet another verse...
Emotions devoid.
She said this and set foot
On a journey with no route
Divination she aspired
A rendezvous with the stars...
With blisters on her feet she walks on
Pain it seems, she is void of
Numbness seeks her
Antagonism sewed deep
Peace and quiet
The grave beyond beckoning...
Promises, lies! Promises, lies!
If only she could get in...
No comments:
Post a Comment