The scarlet thousand threads interwoven together
Flourished life on lifeless pieces of paper
Becoming the heartbeat of the pen I hold
The instrument through which I am unhinged, bold!
My blood now courses through its only narrow appendage
As does its lifeless blue essence, within my body and spirit as a bandage
Keeping together a heart nigh explosion
Absorbing the rivulets that escape from its hold, demanding no wage
And so the living and the lifeless sustain each other
As I hold on to the pen for dear life, and meaning that I could find in no other.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY ; MOUTHPIECE OF ALL
PoetryPoems of the sad, broken, the joyous, the wanderers, and the eternally pondering minds. Everything that so besieged us since the inception of time, is an unwritten poem. Even though dead in the eyes of mankind, poetry can rejuvenate this flourishing...
