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 insanityΒ Β 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