Where Words Wander

In every stilted word a story lies,
each pregnant pause—a poem resides.
In that which remains unsaid,
the truest word will rear its head

A volcanic death rattle—shatters sky,
the moribund calls; my fatal cry.
This meek voice undeterred,
yearning to be solemnly heard

About Marlon

Grew up in the Essex countryside and currently resides in London. Passing through his 30s far too quickly. Likes: writing, design, the arts, and copious amounts of coffee. He is working on his first novel.

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