A Word's Worth [+...]

Merci. La confusion reste sur la scène, mais il y a une boîte vide dans mon théâtre qui vous attendra.

A Word's Worth

Another combination of words

Or a new set of lyrics

Twisting adjectives to flatter, verbs to hurt

One more noun for what is

Or the next description of what isn’t

The flick of a tongue

The tap of a key

And the flowing, scratching, twirling, stabbing

Exploding lines

Of lead and ink and thoughts

Try, we do in vain, to find a better way

And though actions may speak louder than they

And though a picture may say a thousand

They are my companions, and -

Remember this: the pen is mightier than the sword

So long as one’s wit is sharpened.

Confused

The reading of my heart was your job

Accidentally commissioned to do it, you were relied upon

Every time the numbers changed I got a new sparkle in my eye

And yet suddenly my audience is gone

                    Alone in the spotlight

                    Gazing out at empty seats

                    The plush velvet begins to rot

                    And words start to collapse

Your words still touch me, you know

And I still read your heart, even though it's not my job

And I want to understand the turn of events;

Why the walls of the city fell down.

The Lake Of No Importance

I know it's been a while, but I swore I wouldn't do what I always do and start this without finishing it. So, new post. Huzzah!

Speaking of starting things and never finishing them; I wrote this beginning of something ages ago, and I still have absolutely no idea what to do with it next. Therefore, internet, NOW IS YOUR TIME. I need help...

The rain falls down in sheets of steel on the Lake of No Importance. Thin, grey clouds scurry across the skies, trying to escape as they are replaced with huge, rolling, thunder-bearing versions of themselves. The willow trees creak as they bend to breaking point in the biting wind. And cowering under them is a small boy, violet eyes wide with terror and a dark halo of hair framing a pale, tear-stained face.

I have no more. You get a pickature though. Completely unrelated, of course - just a sketchy self-portrait.