Post by DarkVortex on May 22, 2005 18:57:32 GMT -5
The flame ignites to choke the eternal dark.
Glaring its presence and leaving its mark.
I once again procure my position in my candle lit room.
Dwelling through the night with only to gloom.
Soon I'll take a seat at my immortal throne.
Waiting to be hit with the last purged stone.
I begin to write to spill my rancorous heart.
But I befall to the paper with no where to start.
I lay back to envision what to write this lurid night.
Dismay and unknown is all that comes to my souls sight.
My mind flusters and floats off with the wind.
Its tired of enduring with a spirit that has only sinned.
So I'm left with nothing but the barren of a blank line.
For my mind to pillage and abruptly dine.
Is this the apprehension of a condemed poet?
Or their overlooked life and way of leaving it?
Glaring its presence and leaving its mark.
I once again procure my position in my candle lit room.
Dwelling through the night with only to gloom.
Soon I'll take a seat at my immortal throne.
Waiting to be hit with the last purged stone.
I begin to write to spill my rancorous heart.
But I befall to the paper with no where to start.
I lay back to envision what to write this lurid night.
Dismay and unknown is all that comes to my souls sight.
My mind flusters and floats off with the wind.
Its tired of enduring with a spirit that has only sinned.
So I'm left with nothing but the barren of a blank line.
For my mind to pillage and abruptly dine.
Is this the apprehension of a condemed poet?
Or their overlooked life and way of leaving it?