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barely there

like a ribbon washed free of its ink
the silk empty
the words pressed by machine
my voice going

nothing left but a dawn
with a faint moon
what is this??
for I am wicked
and cannot rest

Editing stage: 


Esker hello to you and I so relate to a sleepless nite as I see the vision in this write

nothing left but a dawn
with a faint moon

sleepless nites.. waiting for eyes to faintly close to slumber




Sleep comes easy to the innocent, those with a clear conscience. I can see the dawn you speak of, i've had plenty mornings like that. Nice poem, Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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