Feather quill bird, why have you come to me
Your tune wallows in my ear like a haunted melody
Searching for something that is forbidden to exist
Your wings, outstretched, represent an opened abyss
Yet the wet gleam in your eye stirs new feelings in me
Drenched in ink you sing the burning thoughts begging to be
Coat it all, coat it all in black, leave nothing pure
To this driving madness, there is no cure
No way to abate it, this overcast will remain
Even though it is you who shows me this merciless pain
My eyes cannot tear from this darkness that is new
Placid, still, you show no emotion, leaving me without a clue
I'm ready to shatter
Spill the blackest ink from the depths of my heart
Clawing for my pen desperately
I scratched my screams down like art
But black ink doesn't show up on black paper
Black desk... Black room, black city, black sky
Feather quill bird, you have stained my world the darkest black.
- - -
Tada!! A work that is a couple years old, but I am still very proud of. This was written while I was suffering through some pretty severe writer's block, and suddenly I picked up my pen and just started writing. That's what's magical about poetry, it's best when it just comes to you. I like to say that this poem shattered my writer's block before it shattered me, I felt free after I finished it. And the part where it goes, "No way to abate it, this overcast will remain
Even though it is you who shows me this merciless pain
My eyes cannot tear from this darkness that is new,"
I know that is clashy-sounding with the rhymes, because the last two sentences go together, rather than the two that rhyme sweatdrop
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