"scripting" poems - Hello Poetry

Oh, how dark our history is You, my author of misery and pain With fingers set to scribble my demise This is our story, writ with chaotic pen One that left calamity in its wake You would always start the chapter Every page inked with words of black On the point of a pen, you'd viciously write Using the sharp edge to stab into my being Scripting, deeply, my eternal damnation You erased my name and made me delusional Always forcing me to your divine will For the pen, always mightier than the sword Was kept toward the edge of my neck Swearing to strike at any given moment Always determined, I'd end our sentences Fighting to gain balance and bear the final period Yet it was not without consequences For you and I were wrought with scars Etched into the bottom of our hearts, a burning black If only these words painted a happy picture But the thousand only paint a picture of pain A dreary battle between two broken forces On timeworn pages, brittle-ing on and on Begging for the piece that holds our final chapter And that chapter swiftly came for I was the ending Leaving in the night, gone without a trace With no words or ink left as a guiding clue Carefully escaping from your paper prison Free from the agony of the writer's press On that day, I began my life again Starting a happy story; free, original, and new A home of letters filled with love, life, and joy Where I'd never dare see you again, my dear, dear author And never bleed black from your miserable weapon

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May 21, 2016

May 21, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC

lady-narnia

Novel of Black

Oh, how dark our history is You, my author of misery and pain With fingers set to scribble my demise This is our story, writ with chaotic pen One that left calamity in its wake You would always start the chapter Every page inked with words of black On the point of a pen, you'd viciously write Using the sharp edge to stab into my being Scripting, deeply, my eternal damnation You erased my name and made me delusional Always forcing me to your divine will For the pen, always mightier than the sword Was kept toward the edge of my neck Swearing to strike at any given moment Always determined, I'd end our sentences Fighting to gain balance and bear the final period Yet it was not without consequences For you and I were wrought with scars Etched into the bottom of our hearts, a burning black If only these words painted a happy picture But the thousand only paint a picture of pain A dreary battle between two broken forces On timeworn pages, brittle-ing on and on Begging for the piece that holds our final chapter And that chapter swiftly came for I was the ending Leaving in the night, gone without a trace With no words or ink left as a guiding clue Carefully escaping from your paper prison Free from the agony of the writer's press On that day, I began my life again Starting a happy story; free, original, and new A home of letters filled with love, life, and joy Where I'd never dare see you again, my dear, dear author And never bleed black from your miserable weapon