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 928 times
Written on 2015-01-23 at 13:42

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text



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