On a cozy corner...
soon as dark blanketed the skies
and quiecense grips through the night
words and phrases crumpling the mind
spilled off to the edge of the pen
a bloody inkling poured on a parchment
In the moonlit hours...
when sleep dangles on the end of a string
hung from the north side of the moon
and faith hides behind a smoking mirror.
she sips poetry written by brewing coffee grains
off the top of words spoken in whispered pains,
to gather the keys that'll lock once opened doors
And her soul weeps...
estranged by the bright spirit
now lingers moans of a devil's embrace
torn pieces of a once obsidian silk
long after the kiss becomes a memory,
long after a memory becomes nightmares