The Written Soul

 

The soul is wracked by coughing fits
Coloured ink splashed across the pages
Each drop joining with dead links
That stretch back through the ages

Ink swirled with tentative fingertips
Words and sounds revealed
The blood of pages arteries
Spread across a white, lined field

Curious questions and deepest thoughts
Strokes of purest grace
Woven there before my eyes
An intricate written lace

And when the coughing does subside
Leaving dream-ink spread with care
You’ll see the story’s soul therein
Open and laid bare

©Aarron Mondello
2/3/2018

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s