as the night descends
the moon is out tonight
from passing clouds
covering pale face
oblivious of eyes
for that red lips
its vampire heart
-©The Elusive Scribe 041214-
I can hear them pounding the streets
with their heavy footfalls echoing
against the walls of my crowded mind.
The letters come marching arm in arm
conjuring ideas from words like magic
out they come from their hiding places
drowning me in their raucous din.
I could hear their voices rising
clamoring to be heard, wanting my attention
begging for me to write them down on paper.
My hands are shaking in anticipation
wondering how the march of words will appear
once I start to bleed my pen
staining blank pages that await
the kiss of the nib on their virgin skin.
-The Elusive Scribe 010814-
What’s a little pain every now and then?
Even when you bleed, wounds do heal.
Scars can get left behind
along with their memories,
but the pain you can keep inside,
under a lock and key.
What’s a little hurt from time to time?
You’re alive hence you feel.
But the hurt can disappear if you allow it to,
and replace it with something better,
even when you feel like there is nothing
that will make you smile once more.
What’s a little bit of goodbyes,
when lovers go their separate ways?
When the morrow might bring a bit of rainbow
after the rain?
Bringing solace after all the hurt and pain.