Macabre, lively, lovely, nonsense...
Pondering over, is a difficult task indeed
What do you do, when you are consumed?
By one feeling too many
...
Ah! it lay in a pleasant twitter
of gladdened hope through a maddened age
where red beak marks of a bird, glitter
as the only gold of a gilded cage
...
Brevity
Macabre, lively, lovely, nonsense...
Pondering over, is a difficult task indeed
What do you do, when you are consumed?
By one feeling too many
You write. And yet, spill no words.
Isn’t the heart, after all, a shrinkage?
Of so much, and so much more
Emotions, thoughts and black blankness.
How do you put it all on paper
In the likeness of a throbbing ruby.
It is one thing to scratch with a pen
Another, entirely, to scratch with meaning
Imparting sense to a group of letters
So much so, that they seem perfect
Not out of place, not out of time
So when i gather everything and sit
And ready the ink and feather twin
All kinds of things cross my mind
Well, quite frankly, they cross each other
Reason defeated by reason repeatedly
Nothing, absolutely nothing is writ
For, brevity is my love, and abbreviation my honour
All i end up doing is imagining a tale
That has begun and broken inside my mind
And a white paper lies, telling the truth