A palimpsest of steel,
Stylus scraping serpentine lines.
As wounds of ink it deals,
In decrees and interdictions to stain this heart of mine.
Layer upon layer thick,
Each nib grinding away.
Ink will never sink to the quick,
Of blood red and steel grey.
The beast beats within my chest,
And no blade of ink can tame,
This beast and put him to rest,
He can not be fettered, haltered, or made lame.
And when storm comes fierce,
Then all will see what is real,
Maledictions ink can not pierce,
True strength's heart for it is sired of steel.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment