The Pen Drooped

The flame ignited my insides
And I squirmed beneath
The whispering wind,
The moon took away my howls
And crucified my tongue,
And as I whittled in pain
Without a hiss of air
The veins shrunk
Clogging the heart,
I have ran out of blood
This is all that I have.
My last strand of life
Is sent into abeyance.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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