A Merge With The Darkness

 

A Merge With The Darkness.

©-MFB III

 

I slipped into the night
from the pen of my humble abode,
like a quill dipped into the inkwell,
thirsty for understanding.

There I was swept up
by the handiwork
of the greatest poet ever known,
scrawled in tiny white specks
across the black parchment that
stretched into infinity.

The syncopation of the cricket's song
urged my feet to dance across nature,
while the solo wail of a bass rumble
just a lone car passing
somewhere in the night
enhanced the song.

The sad soliloquy of a morning dove
up late accentuated my musings,
and tiny eighth notes wavered
in the sultry air, glowing and then
vanishing like emancipated inspirations.

Then suddenly I  too was
gone without a trace,
leaving only this poem
to mark my passing
a simple epitaph
of an imperfect work.

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