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.