Upon us does it cover all our hidden sins that we did not want discovered? Yet through the quill we will not hide but put aside our ills and transgressions against our fellow man.
The cold wind has cast a chill throughout the house, the fire glows over the coals, while sparks dance within the hearth to crackle our imagination and dedication.
Our favorite place to write and bare our souls waits as words search us and find ways to lie before us as they should.
Their meanings only known to us yet readers will interpret and digest them with the hope of trying to understand the author behind the pen.
The year may have brought them blessings or a curse or two, illness stalking them may have cast a gloom in a room without locks allowing ghosts to enter and frolic with the masters of the quill whose challenges are simply to exist to pen another verse or four.
With twisted minds a struggle with the devil will keep them sane while shadows cast a light from where it came they no not, yet the balance between them both keeps them on the edge of Heaven and Hell.
To write another day is all they seek and should they be granted one final day at the end of the year then only they will have challenged themselves to closing yet another year.
© Copyright 2015 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved