Table of a budding writer,

A page, a pen

A book of emotion

Scars of the scarlet

A mug, some dust

A reckless endeavor to cheat lust

Spotless keys

A pick, a clip

A pair of tired wrists

with fingers spread adrift

In this moment,

with my quivering heart

I only write to fulfill what I start

For my faith becomes destiny and

The story falls apart.

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