His first story ever,
Scripted from a troubled mind,
It was a gloomy tale,
He didn’t know why he wrote that way,
The words couldn’t be crafted any other way.
His first story ever,
Written from the darkest part,
They were the horses that drew his cart,
He had a gory experience,
Its shadow was hidden in his chamber.
His first story ever,
Scripted from a bleeding heart,
He had sojourned through a shrivelled meadow,
In his room, the night had cast a shadow,
He could still turn the pages of yesterday.
His first story ever,
A walk to redemption,
Until the stages of completion,
It was his soul's panacea,
A way to usher tranquil into the flowing stream.
First Published in Poetry Soup.
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