It seems here the abysmal is well recieved as is the dark.
I sketch the silent screaming mask and the sound is a bellwether.
I plumb the depths after sleepless pause or turgid slumber...... wicked spectre in the quiet hours.
They walk in uninvited,arms extended.
"A gift for you my friend"
Ah the words the spill forth again from reservoirs of pain...my pallet rich variety hues abound...the hounds have been untethered and nose to ground they salivate...at my heels again.

My demons free now to guide the way. One fleshless finger points the way beneath a heavy sleeve. "Stay or leave " but yonder lies your Destiny.

Words await buried in shallow grave just beyond that gate.  "Express it now in jangled silence or wait" FOOL.
A roaring tide loosed...my expression once again doth take wing to soar and glide
In search of eagle's perch...eyes keen to observation.
Indignant...
Senses drawn as dried sinew attached to archer's bow...to.deliver words looosed. Loosed. A loaded quiver now. Soon to be empty.again.
To wait in anguish for next expulsion.
Is this the price ?
YES.