Miming Pen

Eftsoons thou, to abandon, surmised,
When essential an element, unrightfully died,
Her world, the darkness did triumphantly invade,
Conquering was it, sunless, vague.

In its hypnotic surrealism, the mind did succumb,
Vibrant fantasies of adolescent dream in it were entombed,
Certes, this was simply the case, ...
Mind was drowned in ghastly a vortex.

Inside its electric creepers, slick and flashy,
Is thy empire, stretching for eternity,
Where nothing grows, where nothing is nourished,
Where things are idle and aren’t quick.

In such numb a state, in so wild a kingdom,
In such a nebulous, starless dominion,
How could former talent ever be preserved?
How could, ability stay, on writing fingers?

But in pain, the talent didn’t gladly sleep,
It never dozed, the act, acted catalyst,
Because strangle her voice, the poetess cannot,
Moved her pen, throughout, in you, it was entirely engrossed.

Because when poetess, you decide to fully orphan,
She labors hard to make you immortal,
Because the pen shan’t fail, the words revoke you often,
When writer enshrines you in her Cimmerian portal.

Because in your righteous act, you did provoke,
The latent capacity was sparked, it flowed,
In her world, as magic speaks, as shall be,
And today, she ordains her words to capture every receding memory.

The miming pen knows no day or night,
The hands know no rest, the thoughts, no respite,
Till sorry be accepted, till apology allowed,
The miming pen shan’t ever be slowed!

Sporadic is capacity, the heart, so utterly sorry!
Iron is the will, it shall, for the poetess plead,
Until her days are done, until forever ends,
Know that, poetess's repeated apology shall scream the miming pen!

The song-bird spoke at 1:41 a.m on the 18th of December, 2009.