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The Worst Piece

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This bloodied pen is a facade

All talent drained on the promenade.

Eroded words on crumpled parchment

Leave no solace for the "artist".

A conqueror Worm of Edgar's lore

Has seen the light in mirrored ore.

The illuminated cynicism

Adds more iron to his prison;

The Keeper ever vigilant.

Watching slowly? The Dissent.

One forbaying, each dreams touch,

The other waiting til Worm erupts.

Comments (1)

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A glass held high in a toast to you- Talent just exploded into words. Very well done my man. Thank You for such a beautiful read.

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