A Frightful tale of a writers addiction...
EVIL EMPTY PAGES!
A bedside lamp blankets my room with a candle-lit feel
the shadows seem as if they’re a moment away from taking over
sleep takes a backseat to the thoughts in the foreground of my mind
its this portrait
every brushstroke is another part of me
EXPOSED for all to see
& in a DESPERATE attempt to salvage what is left...
I slowly cap my pen
...DISCONTENT with lukewarm expressions,
empty pages demand my SURRENDER to them
careful and thorough
they tempt all that lies within
EVIL EMPTY PAGES lure in words with their pearl white grin
but i can't give all the credit to them
i need them
like an eighth DEADLY sin
EMPTY pages just seem to whisper... give in... give in...
CURSED as tragically gifted everyday-man
in a battle i can't win
So, tonight i sin again
i give in to my master with a pen...
I spill confessions of REGRET
as if i'm on a mission
to board a life bound for SADNESS
all based on a regretful premonition