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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Mannequin


Silver WInd

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The Mannequin

 

The sound resounds

long after the heart beat

stops and knocks

 

Misted lips part in a scream

and only silence will make

the bell ring

 

On tip-toed breath

in shadows one tries to hide

so the cold lays its claim

 

Eyes sewn shut

sense of touch prevails

where fear stimulates

at the core

 

With a quickness it comes

mercury blood splayed

upon the floor

 

And still an oath was spoken

each living cell broken

shattered bone and flesh

 

Canvas stretched too thin

so again dissected

this living mannequin

 

So the artist returns

to his tortured work

another waiting on the hook.

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