The Cutting
By Lightwalker
The Cutting I sit all alone with a candle as my light. I stare at a lonely, blank piece of paper and listen to the silence broken by a clock Then gripping the dagger with my right hand I contemplate the destiny that I have chosen. These minor ponderings escape the confines of my mind never to be trapped again. My temples begin to pulsate as thoughts begin to form. they collagulate and slip down across my face. Pools of inspiration fall to a bitter end. Where once I saw emptiness I now see only prose Written September 15th, 2001 © on Sep 14 2001 07:08 PM PST 0 • 10
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"The Cutting..."