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Poetry By: TMH

A poem conveying desire for inspiration

Submitted:Jun 17, 2013    Reads: 11    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

The inky depths are frozen.

A cold, cutting skin bars the beauty while

blurred sirens drift beneath the glass

gifting me glimpses, whispering of the others that lurk there

Dazzling creatures that, with stinging, shocking strings

slip a knot around a languid wrist, and

in a flash of brillant pain,

impart to me something. Something more.

Something which will grasp the pen, and

in a storm of blue-black form a line.

Maybe two.

Lines which, in their glory scorch the paper to ash,

lines which sum up the heart, the soul.

Lines I guess at now, lines that escape me

And will forever escape me

until I crack their captors icy grip.


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