“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.” -Edgar Allan Poe
Emptying the hourglass;
Parasite gnawing through painstaken hearts.
Refinery of time,
Loosing its substance:
Depleting bosom, and carving a void…
Finely crafed bone –
Work endowed on by one’s self-portrait.
Faces developed, not true to life.
(Please do not copy or reproduce this poem without permission)
There is a new writing competition, on the theme of ‘Fear’:
The piece may follow any format, however it must consist of less than 500 words.
To enter, please send me your work using the ‘Contact’ section, or email me at:
The closing date for the competition is the 10th of March.
Thank you for taking part!