Ink and silence

 A thousand lights had made me colder…

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Ink and silence

With an afterglow of a firefly, with a cry of a wolf,
with feet on fiery rose petals,
with clandestine whispers, bitterly cutting the time,
I leave the fibers of fragmented words
to the anger of wounded snowflakes,
revengeful, mourning my drained voice.

I abandon the verses to the shadows,
into the hidden chambers of poetry,
I behold the lulls in the blue-eyed abyss,
forgotten fairytales and hundred absurd days,
I drown in syllables, damp with passion,
to live again the faraway love of a mermaid.

Like ravens hunting the death
in my sinking I ravage the ashes of letters,
the reflections of virgin mirrors twist my power
and I give in to the hands of creativity,
dark magic and lips of paper incubus,
only to design a new sound for every lonely heart.

And here I am, on the wings of raw scars,
one with the resistance of a blight fragrance,
feeding on the ignition of answers,
silent in the dreams with ink and angels.

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La pluma by Diego on Flickr

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© 2012  Broken Sparkles

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