The crack ran down the sideboard
Bleeding saline and spoils
The devil in white was a'waving
An angel lost her war
I think those are two seperate couplets
But it's up to you to decide.
Can you spare me some inspiration?
Ok, seriously, I'm in a vaguely poetic mood. Bits and pieces of abstract nonsense tingle on my tongue, on the tips of my fingers; but they seem to come to naught. Sometimes I do get a little grated off the writer's block and the shavings fall to the diary. Shavings are a mess though and should generally be swept away. I just like to have a photograph of them. For...posterity. I guess.
I think the sight of blood just set me off this morning. Blood is so angst. My cat scratched my lip and I have a lovely battle scar. I just feel that much more cooler and hardcore now. I need to write poetry to appease the superficial wound. [/sarcasm] Seriously though, that cat needs a humane whupping. I'm afraid he's going to end up declawed. His violence is utterly unbearable. We'll see just how tough he is once the weapons are gone.