Writing

Alone a man in sealed door, Seldom spoke the words of bore, Besought the world, the endless flutter, With words vivid his tongue would utter,

A sestina written in the dead of the night

When the smoke clears we share a bed till the midnight hours pass

In winter clouds of ice breathe silver rust upon the water

Different things and place-hell, heaven, limbo. Might even turn it into a story

I’m diving head first into hell Heaven grab me by the feet Running circles in a sphere Where light and darkness meet

read and find out.

Tags hell