Entry 638

I do not eat often
While writing, I prefer energy
Attained through autophagy.

My fingers quiver
While loosing arrows of truth
That rarely hit their mark.
I aim at moving targets and fall short
As I forget my conviction.

Starvation inspires me
To seek intangible sustenance.

I do not hunt for sport.
I enter the Forest to find prey
That will fall before a sword
That is mostly hilt.

Blood does not stain my hands,
Only ink&nicotine.

Death does not fill my mouth,
Only smoke&shadows.

I will not claim to know
What words will come
When there is
Only silence.

)

Charles.Lee.Poetry.

Written by

a bard of entropy.

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