Writing

Human reed

In my hands

Time itself

I could put it down

But I can’t pick it up again

Minutes pass

Is it colder?

I can’t tell anymore

Clocks are just ticking things

Life makes them ring

Fingers withered

My voice still sings

The spark and the fuel

For the myriad things

It’s all just words

Still now old aeolian harp

This one’s for you

Writing

Don’t Panic

Now, I don’t want to alarm anyone. Because, if you think about it, there is really nothing to be alarmed about. It’s just a figure of speech used to imply the opposite of its literal meaning. And I’m deliberately misusing it to be misleading and just generally confusing.

C.T. Curio

Musings of a fictional mind

Tag Archives: words

Human reed

Don’t Panic