Unspilled Ink

Born from the ashes of yesterday’s fires, dancing in the shadows
a growing luminescence, beckoned to me from beyond the darkness
Whispers so loud calling me into the light
Questions so raw I dared not speak them out loud:

“Why do you think that in solitude
you can see all that there is to see,
from sea to sea?”

“Are you now addicted to falling
endlessly falling
into the unsettled abyss of your sorrow?”

“Are you enamoured with obsolescence
and numbing your pain
while drifting in endless silence?”

The answers that echoed back to me filled the empty pages of my heart

“With your words you can tame the roaring storm
raging in in your soul
and wind the winding wind to your desires”

“With your words you can rise from the shallows
and break the silence
that has held you close for too long”

“With your words you can paint your drowning pain
into rivers and oceans
and droplets of spring rain”

The deserted corridors and shattered parts
of my broken heart
The darkness, once unreachable
suddenly unveiled

My once un-spilled ink
aspiring to be read
and aching, to be set free
© Ann Bagnall

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