A Writers Wounds

Nightmares cursed to paper; the harbinger a pen full of blades

A scythe sets tomes to stone; the blood of a poet makes its stain

Wordful storms of literary hail that mercilessly rain down without remorse

Sanity accused of logical heresy set to fire

Insanity leeching off the unholy flames

As I bleed my story onto blackened page in varying tones of a banshees scream

 

So I present for your guilty pleasure

Every ounce of my pain

 

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2 thoughts on “A Writers Wounds

    • When someone else’s pain is more than ours it brings reflective perspective
      When the worse they deal with is the odd papercut…. You realise how fucked you are!
      As ever you original comment is the gospel of truth, to which I bow in respect (and to check if the razor is sharp enough, just incase it gets really painful!)

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