the Flame

Here, at my desk
I find myself,
pen in hand, again.
But now, bereft of faith,
no longer knowing why I write:
a moth returning to the flame.




Poetry by arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 605 times
Written on 2015-01-23 at 13:42

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once again ... don't we all? You say so much with such few words.
~Ashe
2015-02-07



Isn't it just the case! You'd think we'd learn right?
2015-01-25



Succinct, but substantial. I once heard someone say that writers write because they can't help it. They just have to.
2015-01-23



Many will relate to this I'm sure.
You say it all with brevity and it has need of nothing more.
2015-01-23