My pen has never failed.
It will not now.  It takes
my mind to you.
I go home, or come back.
You are nowhere.

My pen will fill the pit.
But even the words can not
Replenish what is gone.  You
are gone, but I am not alone.
I will go on.

My pen goes on.
It will guide me, it always
has.  When next I see you
my pen too will have left.
We will be one.

seem a fraud

to the quick machinations of the mind

a skeleton

whose bones curl
at the smell of heavily versed
morality

but dead words

often hit the blunt truth

behind many thought’s thick
flesh