sableofnight

Words halted by the silence that been evoked,
There is no movement in this being, as the description begins to choke,

Awash in enchantment, breath wisped away,
My words are secretly stolen,
And I’d become enslaved

With blissful eyes do they watch as you indulge my time and space,
A lover of words, a warrior in tongue has now been all erased,

Relishing in thought as these words champion to be free
But unable to stand before you; and speak the humbles of these,

For the voluptuous of this beauty is hard to define,
True, the thoughts do not reach the tongue,
So they become lost or intertwined.

In a scotch mist, there is a trickle, that dries all but a drop,
Yet still there is not enough moisture to water a single thought,

Mysty

Hiya Sableofnight A few thoughts on your work here. This an interesting piece. I can almost feel like I have been drinking and trying to view it through a drunken haze. Anyways I am not drunk .... so have left some ideas for you to ponder.



Words halted by the silence that has been evoked,
There is no movement in this being, as the description begins to choke,

Awash in enchantment, all breath wisped away,
My words are secretly stolen,
And I’ve become enslaved

With blissful eyes I watch as you indulge my time and space,
A lover of words, a warrior in tongue that has now been all erased,

Languishing in thoughts as these words champion to be free
But unable to stand before you and speak humbly of these,

For the voluptuousness of this beauty is hard to define,
True, the thoughts do not reach the tongue,
So they become lost or intertwined.

In a scotch mist, there is a trickle, that dries to all but a drop,
Yet still there is not enough moisture to water a single thought.


My suggested changes are in bold ..... You can use or lose them as ultimately these words are your work. But in the light of day and the with clarity of a clean mind (no alcohol mist) I think you might agree that some if not most help.

Mysty