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Literature Text
The written word,
ink upon card.
Though often raw,
can be surreal.
They can conceal
when meant to reveal.
The letter yields
what the writer seals.
While the intent is real,
the dream is steel.
And so you kneel,
on uneven keel.
Through rotting flesh,
your skin will peel.
The parchment bleeds,
that is the deal.
There is no ink, so
your blood, I'll steal.
My pen is full,
your mind will reel,
when on parchment drawn
are words that feel.
ink upon card.
Though often raw,
can be surreal.
They can conceal
when meant to reveal.
The letter yields
what the writer seals.
While the intent is real,
the dream is steel.
And so you kneel,
on uneven keel.
Through rotting flesh,
your skin will peel.
The parchment bleeds,
that is the deal.
There is no ink, so
your blood, I'll steal.
My pen is full,
your mind will reel,
when on parchment drawn
are words that feel.
A little something I thought up the other day, about the power of the written word. I see it as a little dissertation about how the written word can have so much going on in it, whether you see it or not.
However, my works are always open for interpretation, so if you've got ideas of your own, I'd love to hear them.
Comments are worthy of cookie-give ^.^ Critiques and compliments are equally welcome
However, my works are always open for interpretation, so if you've got ideas of your own, I'd love to hear them.
Comments are worthy of cookie-give ^.^ Critiques and compliments are equally welcome
© 2011 - 2024 HeadmistressMercedes
Comments23
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Ohh this. This is good. I like 