6d
Corpses of words litter my lips,
adorned with embellishments of ellipses.
I speak in tongues of madness, yet
papers crumple, lifeless, devoid of muse.
Darkness streaks across the skyway like faraway stars,
a lone luminary twinkling before me.
Meanwhile, my mind creaks with a low hum,
a spectator to the whirlwind thoughts that dissipate into nothing.
Through my varied feelings, truth slips away,
bad words shatter their chains, and darkness loses its shadow.
I hope for a tryst that awakens the muse,
and a tongue that speaks the muse, in all its hues.
~Mikelson
#YPCweeklychallenge
adorned with embellishments of ellipses.
I speak in tongues of madness, yet
papers crumple, lifeless, devoid of muse.
Darkness streaks across the skyway like faraway stars,
a lone luminary twinkling before me.
Meanwhile, my mind creaks with a low hum,
a spectator to the whirlwind thoughts that dissipate into nothing.
Through my varied feelings, truth slips away,
bad words shatter their chains, and darkness loses its shadow.
I hope for a tryst that awakens the muse,
and a tongue that speaks the muse, in all its hues.
~Mikelson
#YPCweeklychallenge
When you have a lot to write but cannot connect to your muse. We have many visual and auditory scenes that can arouse us to write. The earth pleads with tears, we see it on the street, in the house as parents-child suffer backlash.
You can write again and again and again until you come alive again as an executioner.
You can write again and again and again until you come alive again as an executioner.
