In Need of Words
I crave for a breathing rhyme
where syllables dance on air--
a harvest of words
which releases evening's fire,
this ember from beasts within
must be snuffed with madness--
for late hours teeter
between a phrase and a line;
trembling, my body needs sleep
as a verse takes a rough draft.
Brian Strand Contest 110
Copyright © Franco Gonza | Year Posted 2018
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