THOUGHTLESS │✔️

beneath.

Here lies the fortress of overlapping ink. Each stroke leaves its mark with purpose, each splatter a not-so careless misplacement of excitement.

Where walls are built, walls are torn, walls are altered, walls are shape-shifters.

Built, to last for a lifetime. Torn, to undo eternity. Altered, to please the aching heart of those who sought the sun. And transforming, because words are ever dynamic, never static, never keeping the same definition that humanity attempts to brand it.

Here hides the mirrors of fractured glass, each spiderweb a memorial of what was lost, each broken shard a forgotten knife of truth.

Where mirrors are filled, mirrors are drained, mirrors are enchanted, mirrors are liars.

Filled, with the ever-flowing ocean of emotions. Drained, with the ever-starving yearning of the spotlight. Enchanted, with a wave of the sorceress' hand. And deceiving, because there is no greater pleasure than witnessing what was, once upon a time, attainable.

Here wanders the poets of pens and pencils, whose overflowing hearts can cry an ocean of jewels or sing a novel of calamities. 

Where poets are empowered, poets are drowning, poets are united, poets are magicians.

Empowered, with the ability to wield an inexpensive wand. Drowning, in the relief that follows release. United, by the invisible army of the many. And conjured, from the animal instinct called 'fear', where our voices clash with those who call 'wolf'.

So out comes the swirls and eddies of midnight, adorning paper airplanes with unseen words.

This one was written quite a while back...I think it's a bit cringy, but I still like it.