I sat with the mark, sharp and bright,
Curved at the tip, a flash of light.
"Why the flare?" I asked, "What’s the need,
For such a wild, untamed stampede?"
With a shudder, it shook, then did confide,
"I bring the twist, the rising tide!"
"Are you not lonely," I pondered aloud,
"In sentences lost in a sea of the crowd?"
It...
Continue reading...