You Are, The Page, The Ink, The Poem

You are, the breath, that has been held captive
Waiting for the day, it releases from being passive
From the pit, it churns, spiralling up to flutter
As the sound of bells beeping, surprising stutter
A voice as sweet as caramel with that spicy twang
Coated, chocolaty treat, that soothes like a song

The page once bare, white, pristine as freshly fallen snow
It glitters bright, markless, scarless, smooth silky bow
Waiting for the day, to be taken, in raptures bliss
To be kissed and kissed with that weak in the knees kiss
Marked and scarred, with flowing lines creating verses
That would, if it could, write an ode, in loving cursive

The ink, would glide, ride along the whitewashed fibres
Tilting to the right, so the hand can slide as liners
Filling the space with the black of a liquids grace
Absorbed into times embrace
A moment to take, not waste, a chance given
Let go, fall into that state; this must be, heaven!

The poem, expresses the desire of a beating heart
Piecing together the emotions contrived by tearing life apart
All the sadness, so much sadness, never letting go
Not until, an Angels voice, broke the hold with a glow
It stirs every nerve, it sparks into flames
Driving insane, the fire surging though the veins


22 thoughts on “You Are, The Page, The Ink, The Poem

  1. Bless you Ax, I was just on to my next piece about I’m a poem in the making. Once again, my blue bird and your black bird sings the sane tune.

      1. I meant I ‘wrote’ something else. Stupid autocorrect function. Well, i just dropped it. Let your creativity shine the brightest. Lol. I’ll complete it some other time. ๐Ÿ™‚

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