There was no bullet through the night
no assassin on a high tower
or poison seeping into skin exposed
no blade to pierce flesh and blood
or arrow loosed upon the forward ranks
There was only dream and shadow
wrought from the fabric of the sky
to cover all the world
with a fear that the end might come
and then it did
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—
There’s only one way to write a book: one word at a time.
—
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Photo by Oscar Keys from StockSnap
Mitchel David Ring 
4 responses to “What Was”
When I get too lost in writer’s block, I have to remind myself that books are written just one word at a time. Good advice.
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It’s close to where I am right now in my own writing. Just gotta keep putting words down, right! Cheers and thanks for reading (:
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So many meanings: Love it!
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Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it (:
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