The screeching of the quill
Resonates throughout the dark hollow
It's path as certain as
The brewing storms outside.
It runs astray, never ceasing
Nothing to erase
Everything to conquer.
And as time flows by,
The elegant curves change course
The smoothness chucked far away,
From the rushing
Of the sharp waves.
It's the darkness creeping in
The monsters under the bed
Stirring awake,
At the break of dusk
The bright of the day
Now long gone
To keep that at bay.
YOU ARE READING
Rosé Cacti
Poetry"See the war inside of her Of the heart and the soul Deadlier than that of the heart and mind. She laughs, She conceals; She cries, She writes; All that the heart wants, she gives And the soul is fed with fake promises. She flourished her wilting ro...
