Gas street lights
Flicker and burn
A deserted street
Where isolation spurns
The chance for company
The road is long
A talent burns
Words are sprung.
Ink to paper
Midnights oil
Battered desk
Endless toil
Paper creased
Unwanted lines
Troubled brow
Loneliness pines.
Alcoves whisper
Sharpened swords
All in vain
Pen to words
Shadows dance
Teasing promise
The hours melt
In vibrating cosmos.