Author Information
Where When Both Gates Meet
Hello there faceless stranger
Weary from travel
Nameless in time
What are you reading?
Me?
I am but a poem
Made by a Madman
Flung deep
Across his papers
Scattered in secrets
So slight it deafens
Where just a few
Blind steps
Aimless and foolish
Stumbles upon his halls
Where the music so eerie
the sounds strung in strings
are broken
and echoes in the dimness
But each plucked note
Ripples through ears
A new song
You can never write
It falls full in your mouth
with a fevered temper
Then slips off
Like words of the eager
As twisted as it is
His halls are taken
By the end of our lives
In each letter
and each word
I’m only but glad
to be heard
Like Words of the Eager
When it shows, poke it in the eye with the tip of your on fire quill - s'what I say - Loved every well placed word and the spaces in between ~A~
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:(
I don't think I'm as good as you lead on... But a FIERY QUILL! dang... XD
Well perhaps women are better at waiting for love than men.