It costs a dime and a moment of your time
To write a rhythm to your rhyme.
To put a price tag to words and to sell me your soul
For A hundred ingredients and a thousand of your tears,
Would you let me buy your years, for the price of your fears?
An imprint of your mind, a look into your eyes.
Spill ink through your fingers, and spill your heart on a risk.
I hold the key to your world view, I am the master of your muse.
Tell me a story, so I can slip inside of you,
and feast upon the unborn minds of your creations metaphorically.
So I can put interest on a silver tongue with words like honey,
to a thousand desperate flies.
Your world is no longer yours, it's ours, and I've cut its fuse.
We're living in a matchbox, draining our lifeforce.
You've made the deal with the devil, we're burning through our gain.
So let me set your stage, we're the actors of your mind,
cast me a villain and call yourself a hero.
So sell me your story, it's why I think you're worth the time.
YOU ARE READING
Coherence
PoetryThis is a poetry collection that is both ever updating and ever changing. This collection of poetry isn't exactly traditional or ever a solid complete piece of prose, I am ever adding and changing and morphing them into something I feel is better or...
