Silent ink

I could not tell you the last time I sat down with the music loud, and the fire burning. I simply do not remember. So I sat down with my thoughts and this what I have come up with.


Silent ink

One more drop of ink,
leaks,
from this pen.
I don't care,
if it's the last.
From across the room or down the hall,
a snake will always strike,
the venom flows.
A fire's smoke and amber glow,
takes me from my feet,
mends my bones.
The hour is late,
and it will not wait.
Final thoughts not yet said,
as the ink stains once again.
You have been with me seemingly forever,
my silent friend.


Later.

I love you Julie.