The ink of these letters soak through parchment
leaving stains on the maple underneath.
You look down at them on a later day,
and wonder what it was you'd thought to say.

May you please lay my weary head to rest
as the blade erupts with rubies in Spring.
I sit in my ivory tower's nest,
pulling puppets by their shadow-spun string.

I ponder and play, squeezing idle joy.
Wondering, perhaps I shall see you soon.
If not, I return to my tepid ploy.
A sallow moth, rotted in his cocoon.

A clock strikes and the siren's song erupts.
Yellow wallpaper reveals my sin's seams.
I close my eyes and this fear I shall disrupt.
I must embrace the love within my dreams.

Draw a line in the sand and sleep upon
its precipice.
Bury its words in a soup of your blood
and prejudice.

Cast your gaze to the horizon with the
blossoming truth.
Shades of purple, red, and yellow reflect
your waning youth.

Whisper to the wind, let it draw your words
across her mind.
Softly smile, let the chill announce that
you're out of time.

Speak to me sweet child of summer rain.
I urge you, step forward and lend your hand.
I promise nothing but to ease the pain.
Unconditional love with no demand.

Silence pierced across your mundane plane.
You grasp the straw of melancholy truth.
Tonight, a secret reborn in the rain.
No end in the consumption of your youth.

We simply strive for an echo of blue.
A desert filled with the dead's sifting songs.
I cannot help but think of tastes of you.
Darkened moments harken the sin along.

Nevertheless, I embrace the twilight
as god guides me to the ink laden night.

Resting gently upon a film delicate as the spider's silk,
the rose-tinted angels offer their peaceful tune.
A poet watches in peace with men of his ilk.
Finding beauty in the light of the moon.

A frog's cry echoes to a swan song's swoon.
Still, the angel floats idly with grace,
its romantic flair lighting the lagoon.
I grow warm and a smile graces my face.

Oh sweet waterlily, fire in my eye.
I pray for your light. Let it never die.

I taste an afterthought of blue.
Melancholy wrapped in my tongue.
I want to slide into the river.
Someday I'll find the house on the hill.
Until then I shall scratch.

Thoughts of elderberry rest on his lips.
The poison dripping softly down the chin.
A gasp for air, one final love's eclipse.
Abruptly, the devils rise from within.

Clenching at the mottled Juniper Tree.
Their eyes glint of gold, their teeth gnash the bones.
His violet stained brow grows wild and free.
Frenzy takes hold and they throw the first stones.

A jam forms of berries, blood, and bruises.
Their echoed cackles buried in the sand.
Tear-stained ink blots, his soul he abuses.
Only then shall he find his helping hand.

A beginning's end as abrupt as rain.
A tale we shall tell again and again.