He Means Ways of words.

He steeps like tea over the page.  The words that would flow like water have evaporated to steam.

Why can I not think?
Why am I at loss?
When my mind was mine I came across sharp from the tongue.  But now all I can think about is the trigger on my gun.
When they came calling, I answered back.  And my enemy's wrath has a strong lash.
Where did the time go?
Where did my mind go?
I'm shocked my mind turned to mush.  I'm shocked my life has amounted to such.
And if I do not finish the deed what will be done?
Will they come and claim me and worse than my own be shown?
My name is my face now.  I will live on- and in that name is what will see and what will be seen.
Time can come to show my love of all that I do.
With time's ticket I gain entry to the demise of my enemy.  When the clock goes tock and the day is done- my enemy's deeds will unravel him until he's undone.

These words are stuck within him.  They don't fall down to the page.  The plug is pulled and cold steel is felt between his finger and his thumb.
He and all his words fall down onto the page.



(~a small tribute to a literary great.)