Jeffrey McCambridge (08/19/1985)

The pen diverts my pain,
Softening it like meadows
Bringing seven ounces of sunlight
To the consuming darkness.
I have seen in my heart
Seven broken seals.

Communicating with dreams
By way of telegraph, word comes
Of tigers in the night,
Oversized claws pawing for attention,
And dominance over thirty feet
Of jungle called home by too many.

I feel the erosion of dreams
Eating away my soul, the tigers
Become restless, but give way
To the pen and sunlight
Fighting equally as hard
To dominate my dreams.

The pen diverts my pain;
With ink for veins
My skin becomes a canvas
Blank, devoid like the essence
Of dreams, left over from
The era of the gypsy.