DESIRE OF A PEN

A black pen lying on the table

It waits for the hand

That will let its body dance

And share its ink

To the resting paper.

 

I place it between my fingers.

My hand chokes it to death.

Chained and beaten,

The pen is my slave.

I command it to spit its ink.

 

Words to lines, I see them

But they are not breathing

Like the way of nature,

The earth swallows them.

 

My fingers hold the pen still,

My eyes on the white paper

I search for any written word

But I see nothing.

 

And so I let the black pen free.

A black pen lying on the table

It waits for the heart

That will let its ink

Breathe on the white paper�"

The heart of a writer.

Reviews

[Cara]

amazing
thank you for sharing