Staring at the blank page, I wonder; is it staring back at me?
Calling for something desperately, screaming its existence onto me, Tempting me, teasing me, luring me; towards the distant void! The white, empty, aggrieved void dying to exist in this non-existent! All in preparation for the holy birth of a sacred unknown!
By the time I realize, it's too late, I have to face my demise. For the sin of creating, as a creation, it's not my right! This enchanting blank verse should have never seen the light!
Of this overwhelming, oversaturated; yet over-infatuating to the world.
This unholy, forsaken, barren land provides nothing but an alibi. I'm sorry, my dear, I truly am, for letting you come into something that being.
Seeing you suffer makes me bleed, hurts me, though not as much as you Forgive me Father, for I have sinned, but am willing to do it again and again!
If I can experience it once more, Blurring the fine and thin line between the creator and the creation. The malevolent joy that came of fabricating my firstborn.
With💙 @chrysanthemum