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-
weaving words with pen on blank pieces of paper,
corrupting virgin surface with tears of ink,
the words come like flowing river,
filling up the page with the darkest of images
that can only come from a mind bereft of the light.
no hope filters through the shadows of despair
that wrapped their fingers on her grieving soul,
clenching them into fists to bleed her heart
of the hurts that she bore in silence alone.
what wicked fate brought her this unwanted pain,
when all she ever wanted was a piece of heaven
she thought she could find in her lover’s arms.
but she is played like a guitar with broken strings,
and she danced to the tune of his falsities
until her feet start to bleed on shards of shattered glass
of her dreams he broke with all of his forgotten promises.
she is weeping deep inside though her smile never falters,
and you can see in her eyes that she is slowly dying,
and with every word she spilled on the pages of her book,
she is transferring a little bit of her self,
hoping that she could save the innocent that was once her
and let it live the life she could not have on dreams
conjured by a fragment of hope that clings to her deep within.
-The Elusive Scribe 102213-