Poem: 'Ink'

 by Dawn Sands

Ink is the alloy

where shadows corrode:

the gentle unveiling of night-shrouded soul. 

Borne out of the thrashes

of darkness and death and drawn up

with a wave, up with a song, 

senses inhaling the ink-tainted air

as the mask is withdrawn

and the cloak falls away

and the noise peters out

and the figure is standing

bare and aware

and wrapped up in a light

and in dreams and in truth.

Ink is the alloy

I gift to you now. 

Scrawl out your shadows,

come out of your cave - ink suspends crises

and dices with flight;

pull out of the darkness

the beauty in night.