The house felt so quiet with only the hum from the fan
Cooling my only contact with the outside world
Only I could hear the pattering from the spiders run
From their frenzied night time feast
My spine felt a shiver
The glow had faded from the fire and my palms sweated
At the thought of my insanity
Yet here I must write
Write
To keep the demons at my door
Write
To stop them crawling into me
Write
To stop the feel as they whisper into my silence
I close my mouth and scream
So here I write soliloquies
Here I write my soul
It's here I write my madness
The writing on the wall
A poet writes of nothingness
No meaning
Break the rule
The madness from the shadows speak
All quiet breaks
Poor the soul
The golden hour wakes me, I'd fallen yet again
All bottles have been broken
Empty for the drain
I wallow in my pity,the gallon drum awaits
Drinking for my future
Drinking for my wake
A poet so I be
Famously broken
Fabulous me
The house felt so peaceful as my normality returned
The writing left in front of me all ready for the burn
I seek another moments grace
Please madness come
Return
My writing comes that different here
An era that I spurn
Now poets will remember this in writing that they feel
A time for loosing all inside
A craving feeds the feel
It's hard to speak when no one knows how crazy that you are
It's poets talk we really crave
The
Writing on the wall