Writing

In my cave
Deep beneath the ground
I wait for inspiration to strike
Amongst the muffled sounds…
Sounds of thumping feet,
Sounds of muffled speech,
Sounds of dying music
And of the music that has died
Life reaches me
Seeping through the ground,
I don’t want it here
And in my cocoon I crouch
I dive back into my thoughts
Thinking of the music
Thinking of you, me, him, her, us and them
My heart flows to my hand,
And I bring it all alive,
Into the world of my words.

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One Response

  1. In that cave I often dwell,
    Try as hard as I may-
    Cant drown with all my will

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