I dipped my hand within my soul
To stir the ebon ink
And placed a smear upon the scroll
Where loathsome mem’ries sink
And write the script of heart’s lament
With words from blank abyss
In colors mixed with aged torment
And desecrated bliss.
I ripped the hurt from deep inside
And scrawled it ‘pon this sheet
Where inner truth is often spied
Instead of bleak defeat
For most is better out then in
So essence finds surcease
Where needed healing may begin
To pen it’s sweet release.
I tore my soul from barren chest
And placed it ‘pon the page
Where rev’ry writes its words of jest
To sate the liquid rage
With lonesome books that lie unread
And lost amidst the race
But once it’s left me cold and dead
I might have left a trace.