That Dark Ink
That dark ink with which you were written
burning so coarsely to leave you with
a calloused and thoughtless destiny
comes now to pickpocket all your smiles
all your loves
and loves there were to bind your time
Save now but a semblance of family
a photographs lie
an uninvited memory
and so to bitter turn all of disport
those anguished years
But ah my love
it is a death which comes to all of us
And lay you now at night in hatred
cold of sulfurous scorn
to stab the needles of the stars
upon a pillow so damp with tears
while all the while some scratching quill has rewritten
the past within your ears
But so it is my love we never listen
and so in spite and certainty
yourself you cannot unburden
Is it so how you think you are not broken
that some righteous bile is left to swallow
how can it be on such foolish errand
a callous gift indeed it was
this heartless and thoughtless destiny
Copyright © Colin Mitchell Williams | Year Posted 2024
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