Ink Flows


Flood after ebb

I feel as if I am dismissed
as if I was never here
a shadow figure, my substance lost
in seconds, in the light

Or perhaps indeed, like a mirage
I fade in and out of view
Yet am perceived
for only seconds, in the light

A silence drifts in on soft wings
that only I can see
and night cloaks me
in delicate ink

My strength has ebbed
I am submerged now
in these waters of darkness
drifting dolefully in the depths

I feel the weight in my bones
where pain is a river
constant and flowing
yet feeling nothing, it is what I seek

Time seems to flow more slowly now
as if submerged
beneath heavy waves
that blanket the surface of life

Obscuring the light
Draining the colour
Slowly bleeding away everything
but the stark shades, of silence

My lingering tendrils of white
aching to ache, burning to burn
Flowing like moonlight
ethereal silhouettes, intertwined

I am in the wind now
with the echoes of words, I have never heard
the echoes of the soul of the me, I will never be
the echoes of the eternal flame, of poetry

Above the waves a fracture in the night
Just wide enough for me to see the light
Shards of glass, reflections of you
This moment is everything, tragically beautiful

Waves of emotion flowing
in unending undulation
The whispers of the night
fill the empty chambers of my heart

Replacing dust with petals
Tearing the darkness apart
Peace at last, as ink flows
flood after ebb, words spill

Blooming like wildflowers

© Ann Bagnall

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