Broken streets mind is forced to travel,

Empty soul enforced to search.

Trembling hands hunt for redemption,

Merely paper they unearth.

 

Lips begin to quiver

As crystal escapes at last,

Tears mock in silence

As vacant soul recalls the past.

 

Abruptly words seep from my spirit,

One sentence, and then two

Felt tip pleads with pale pages,

Whispers whilst azure blood seeps through.

 

Minutes pass by slowly

As ink crawls between lines,

Yet working hands continue,

Through broken bonds of time.

 

Though entire essence haunted,

It now may not protest.

My soul spilled out on paper

Has brought throbbing mind to rest.

 

To love, to dream, to hope,

Is a gift to they who breathe,

Yet my soul will obey only

If azure blood may bleed.