[POEM] Ink of Sorrow

My feathered quill in trembling hands,
possesses more venom than a snake ready to strike.
It dances upon the parchment,
a waltz of suffering and longing,
each stroke carving tales of love and loss, hope and despair.
The ink bleeds from my heart,
a river of emotions cascading onto the blank canvas of existence.

Each word a dagger,
each line a battlefield of my soul,
my quill weeps as it etches,
the pain of my human experience.
Yet in its agony, it finds solace,
for within the ink-stained pages
lies the profound beauty of my raw truth,
the catharsis of creation.

This poem is part of the upcoming collection "Fragmented Echoes".