Cold Ink

Malice stained with poison pen;
foes are made where once were friends.
Murky ink with fiendish gall,
blackens names and holds in thrall.
Scrapings shred with sharpened tip…
Oh, such deadly manuscripts!

Heart’s desires, dark and cruel;
chain-like whispers bind to you.
Wounds that cut to the quick…
Woe, not by the sword
but with the nib.