With words
Frustrations
That run deep
So new, so fresh, so old
Off with its head
The queen of hearts might say
To a story so damned
So doomed
So stuck
In rewritten notes
Scribbles, more scribbles
Same scribbles
Again, over the years
The Lessons learnt, relearnt
Mistakes made, remade
And the story remains
Floating then drowning
Into a consciousness
So blur, so muddled, story-full
Characters, heroes, shadows
Are born, then reborn
Darlings killed, then resurrected
But the story remains
Haunting, taunting
Deliciously flaunting
The story knows
Where it’s heading
The Hero knows
It’s a beheading
And yet the pen is dry
The lines are shy
And I wait for the voices of the ancient
To sing the Iliad
To burn the words
So new, so fresh, so old
Time to re-emerge
From the abyss of the Dark
Time to revive
The origin of the spark
That gave life
To a story
To a hero
To words

©JoannaAY

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