A Sheet White as A Soul

I sat down with a sheet,
White as a Soul,
My hand started moving with a pen.
Like a demon with mighty sword, Leaving behind the marks.

Like scars and pains of the past.
The sheet started to turn black.
As I unraveled the feelings I had.
Every Memory secured.

The sheet silently endured.
Absorbed every darkness that fell. The ink was black as hell,
I sat down with a sheet,
White as a Soul,
I realized.
It was not that pure anymore.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.