ETERNAL INK

Words hauled from a pit of thoughts
From a maze of dreams not conceived
Words of discord
Except beautiful
Words that flow like honey
Pouring out a golden vase

Fingers glued to a pen
Of eternal ink
Writing words as accolade
To the imperceptible soul

A s it is often forsworn
R ueful, yet
R ight in every sense
E xcept indistinguishable from wrong
S lurp of deceit as one
T rots in the parks of the mind
E n route,
D rawn close and closer to the raison d’être.

W oven from pain
I n twined in
T he forever shifting tides
H earsays gone silent like the graves that lays the dead

A dorning wry faces

P rying into the unknown
E ngrossed in the unseed whilst
N eath the unforgiving trials of being arrested with a pen.

End

Muzamir