Skip to main content

Ink Flows Beyond The Lines

The ink flows beyond the lines|

Felt-tip left scars|

Scribbles and stabs|

Colours shine like a rainbow|

The memories we froze|

The words recorded in the memory of nature's essence|

The life they give|

The life we take|

Often tortured|

Tossed away|

Memories erased, crunched away-|

Shredded into pieces-|

Left for dead|

We do not remember, but they never forget|

Chopped down for new land|

Taken away from their land|

Bare|

Naked|

Stripped|

The nest no longer lay|

Time for the inevitable which means time for our process-|

Daily routine|

We use them for information of stats and events|

Our lives are dependent upon them|

Our lives are unthinkable without them|

I need you to express myself with emotions and stress|

Uncanny how harsher technologies have eradicated you from our everyday|

Less and less dependent upon them|

We use televised broadcast and technology with which they are replaced|

One good deed for a brainless feed|

I skim your ink for the news that I need|

Never rely on opinions on which they feed|

But more on the facts in which you bleed|

Preservation is essential, we must plant seeds|

Your beauty is remarkable|

Words cannot describe the bliss you bring|

We must stop this genocide|

Let the animals run free|

A home is not a home when you're surrounded by the enemy/

Comments

  1. This is my favorite of the three you've posted so far. I love the emotion behind everything you write. It feels so genuine to me.
    As far as paper goes, I'd much rather write my thoughts and stories in a notebook before typing them and storing them on a computer.

    ~~~~

    www.theglowingforests.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey thanks :) I too love writing on paper, what I'm basically saying is. That we need to stop being soo dependent on paper, for every tree we chop down pants a seed. Perserve the forest :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Inside Your Hands

Parables fumble in unprepared hands| Deprived of gifts bestowed to thee| As humans we seek shelter beneath a tree| When our feet become weak| And our needs extend beyond our means| As rain pours| It cleanses our soul| Dormant ideas start to grow| Yet we turn a blind eye| To what's before our sight| Taking the easy way| Shunning plights| Fighting is not a physical ordeal| It's more of a rejection to extol the almighty rule| Exploring alternatives to fables disguised as facts| Letters shredded in half| Eulogies embedded on a golden calf| The story was written for you to digest| The ending inside your hands| Inside your thoughts is the rest|

Spoken Word

A word once spoke is only heard through an opening in a cracked wall| Shrunk in the balance| Within strings moving from the wind's hold| Escaping push| Reinforced from strength of vibrations from a secluded silence|