Inkwell Poem by Edith Niemeyer

INKWELLS' INTUITION

Penned from the words of Edith Lynn Niemeyer

[Instrumental Opening]

A quill awaits
above the page,

its feather still,
its point unknowing.

The scroll unfolds
another inch—

and somewhere
ink
is growing.

[Verse 1]

I thought the words
were mine to summon,

mine to gather,
mine to place.

I thought the well
was merely waiting—

darkness held
in little space.

Dip the quill.

Lift the thought.

Let one trembling
sentence fall.

Nothing strange
about the shadow

slowly climbing
up the wall.

[Pre-Chorus]

One drop
lingers.

One drop
falls.

One disappears
between the scrawls.

I never asked
where ink might go

when words decide
they won't be known.

[Chorus]

Inkwells' intuition—

what have you
begun?

A little stain
beneath the wording,

a darkness
on the run.

I thought that I
was choosing

every word
beneath my hand—

but something
in the inkwell

seems to already
understand.

[Verse 2]

Some words arrive
with introductions.

Some come crawling
without names.

Some are crossed out
three times over

yet somehow
still remain.

And underneath
the careful writing,

where the parchment
folds from sight,

one thin trail
has started moving

farther
into night.

[Bridge]

Perhaps
I dipped the quill
too deeply.

Perhaps
the ink remembers
more.

Perhaps beneath
this simple scroll

there waits
another floor.

No—

don't uncover it.

Not yet.

Let the little
dripping run.

We haven't reached
the inkwell—

we have only
just begun.

[Final Refrain]

So write.

Or think
you're writing.

Let the quill
believe it's won.

The ink has kept
its silence.

The descent
hasn't yet begun.

One drop.

One word.

One almost-hidden
invitation—

Inkwells' intuition...

interpretation
has just begun.

☙🪶〰︎ Original Work — Words & Lyrics © Edith Lynn Niemeyer 〰︎🖋️❧
🎶 Music & Vocals created with Suno AI
✨ Creative collaboration with Serenity