Yesterday’s prompt: Write a ‘Running its course’ poem.
A Pen’s Trail Ended
To reach a natural ending
Is better than pretending
That a stage still holds magic
When the tales behind turn tragic.
For if players be plagued with doubt
And the story worn, stretched out,
Then, a tale drained of all its passion
Destroys the thick walls of fiction.
All good things draw to close
As certain as they once rose,
It is the way of this life
For art to submit to this sacrifice.
So comes the demon of cold reality
Revealing with brutal clarity
The natural, inevitable force
Of that which has run its course.
Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, available NOW for download as an eBook on Amazon. Check it out here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M