Taking Fate’s Hand Essay, Research Paper
Angry red welts mar the paper
Not unlike those that cover my body
And those that scar my mind
I am my own victim
The pen strokes bring me more pain
Than a blade ever could
I suppose the pen truly is
Mightier than the sword
I lose myself in the words
Pouring mind, heart, and spirit
Into the words, over the page
Open for scrutinization
Wet blotches blur the writing now
As I draw my fate’s instrument from it’s drawer
A slash at the wrists, red consumes the page
My ink becomes my blood