The Writer and the Blood Inked QuillA Poem by Adam M. Snow
The candle flickered by a passing gentle breeze; My quill dries up leaving not I at ease. My words upon page now left to hang. A reader's disappointment, now a writer's pang.
The Writer and the Blood Inked Quill
By: Adam M. Snow
The candle flickered by a passing gentle breeze;
My quill dries up leaving not I at ease.
My words upon page now left to hang.
A reader's disappointment, now a writer's pang.
Misery held me as time stood still,
My heart has fallen because my mind is ill.
I stare at blank page as all words elude me,
I can't help to wonder, "How could this be?"
Torment follows as night falls victim to dread;
My ink once black now turns blood red.
I wrote my soul upon each page,
As time ticks by with every age.
The word itself scream an agony scream;
I, the writer without a dream.
But what bedevils myself to write,
Elude me once more with the fall of night.
My nightly whimper comes with a toll,
My life upon the page, now bearing my soul.
© 2012 Adam M. Snow
Shelved in 2 LibrariesAdded on May 4, 2012
Last Updated on May 4, 2012
Tags: poetry, story, dark, death, wedding, night, day, emotional, gothic, emo, teen, youth, nursery, ode, haiku, lyrics, music, short, child, children, nature, life, family, friend, love, romance, erotic, Ballad, Couplet, epic, fanfict
Adam M. Snow
El Mirage, AZ
AboutI write likeWilliam ShakespeareI Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing! "What inspires me is what inspires most poets; my heart, my feelings, and the dreams I.. more..
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