Halls of the Dark Muse

A Blank Page Like A Lover

Like a lovers arms waits the blank page
ink a stain upon its pure white face
as words unfurl the heart starts to race
and fingers curl like toes in a grip of rage.

Flushed with heat thoughts and paper engage
to the pounding rhythm of blood pumping set a pace
like a lovers arms waits the blank page
ink a stain upon its pure white face.

In fevered writing words break free from their cage
wrapped within parchments embrace
the pen like fingers on a lovers skin trace
a scribes quill takes the frantic delusions of a sages
like a lovers arms waits the blank page.