deepundergroundpoetry.com
Prisoner of the Pen
pen to paper, ink to stain
with each letter a little closer to the end
dust gathers between the lines
cracks filled with sand from the hourglass of time
within each syllable and lyrical tug
a time, a memory written left unwillingly behind
the words smile upon this white paper skin
between each period or question mark a continuous sin
life expelled from mere words written by this hand
with pain flowing from these limbs numbing the pen
a collision course that never sleeps
erasing these lines erasing the fear in me
the weight of the press holds me firmly
between the lines of the living and the dress of death
to put a letter in front of the other gets harder each day
the cracks in the ink becomes harder to fill in with my struggle eternally
it is a truth written between pen and mind
a fight setting with the moon not able to hold on
with each letter a little closer to the end
dust gathers between the lines
cracks filled with sand from the hourglass of time
within each syllable and lyrical tug
a time, a memory written left unwillingly behind
the words smile upon this white paper skin
between each period or question mark a continuous sin
life expelled from mere words written by this hand
with pain flowing from these limbs numbing the pen
a collision course that never sleeps
erasing these lines erasing the fear in me
the weight of the press holds me firmly
between the lines of the living and the dress of death
to put a letter in front of the other gets harder each day
the cracks in the ink becomes harder to fill in with my struggle eternally
it is a truth written between pen and mind
a fight setting with the moon not able to hold on
Published 21st Jan 2013
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5th Feb 2013 10:03pm
