Before I try to write,
I see a sight in mind.
Of past, descend a blow
to grasp a scent, or feel
the brush of leaves ago
adieu, so long, no more
but write i might
the words go silent
the clock strikes twice
my hair i torment
so try and rend
a masterpiece from garbage
and see what you'll find
from all the nonsense
for the end is as illusive as the start
And
~•~
I've been having a bit of a writer's block for awhile, so I turned that into a poem (or at least tried to) and it actually looks pretty decent. Hope y'all enjoyed! As always leave any comments and I'll gladly get to them asap! Though please remain as civil as possible!
-Darkcueink(02/05/19)
