“DOYLE I laboured all night long, Hunchbacked, hiding in homely robes. My eyes strained, pupils dilated with the depth of the darkness, Striving to express the extent of my emotions. Hurrying hands growing cramped, Crooked fingers curling and clenched. The inky nib scratched irregularly As I scrawled, blotching my page. My mind loosely rambled onwards Towards a completion that couldn’t come too soon. A writing wreck, as salty moisture welled Within weary eyes that craved for ...release. Beyond witching hour the cartridge ran dry, My word-wand’s scribblings forced to stall. Arms thrown back, writhing and grasping at air Before slamming shut the stained paper sheaves. A fiery arrow ascending above the hills, The cheering sun, a candle of hope Renewing all of Earth’s natural splendour. I rose refreshed; confident and prepared.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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