A Writer's Reverie

An image once conjured was deemed unforgettable, For an inexpiable deed was done once she painted, Scrawls across the gnashed pages that need to be fed Of impish creativity, Of feigned grief, Of radical breathings, Of trodden misgivings, Of mastered betrayal, Of heavy injustice, The mind coaxes the hand with such intensity, that Quashed the tip of a quill, raven ink which seeped into Clawed trenches onto the parchment as it molders, An umbrage to those whom relinquished their dreams, Into the flaming recesses at which dawn never break.