The Poison Quill

Sticks and stones

How I wish they’d broken my bones

For the crime of the written word

Solicits less condolence


Hate and lies

How I wish they had devised

The fire by which the venomous pages

Smolder into ashes


The poison quill

How I wish I had the skill

To blot out the lies; the pen of truth

Writes its own justice


Pens at war

How I wish I had written more

To balance Osiris’ scale; then Ammit

Devours the vile plume


Deathly words

I’ve never read anything so absurd

But the hand holding the poison quill

Poisons itself of all reason


© Amy Sophiamehr

Artwork by mx-chronos at Deviantart