And I have emptied all my words unto these pages,
poured my vocabulary into blasphemous wages;
I have turned and lost my little spark,
while on the journey of fame I embark;
I have driven myself to much empty a seat,
where there is no one but me to fill my wretched feat;
I have spilt too much words over balades,
that my rosy tongue has not even tasted;
and now I am slowly losing my rhymes,
to this newfound exhaustion,
but then I pick up the fallen dimes,
and continue writing my worded potion;
for I know it isn't an easy journey,
but I still embark on its' seam,
so it must be quintessential,
for me to exert so much steam;
and I swear I will not stop,
not until I can reach the top;
for I know I was born to do this,
I was born to be this girl,
who would tear down the world,
with all the words she hurled;
who would bring tears to the eyes,
of all those who glimpse her tries;
and everyone would know,
how much this girl has suffered,
to reach the place where she was,
where the stars have buffered,
and this girl is me by all means,
a canvas, a masterpiece in real dreams;
and I will not bring myself to stop,
not until I finally reach the top;
but ho ! And see now,
how I run off the line.
For for the sake of rhyming,
this is the extent of mine.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
