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The Ink to My Words: Materializing Memories in Poetry

Capturing Life's Moments with the Stroke of a Pen

By ARJ GamingytPublished about a year ago 2 min read
The Ink to My Words: Materializing Memories in Poetry
Photo by Victor Rutka on Unsplash

The ink to my words, a portal to the past,

A gateway to memories, too fleeting to last.

As I put pen to paper, the wraiths start to appear,

Materializing from nothingness, in the ink they sear.

They dance and they twirl, in a graceful ballet,

Telling stories of moments, both joyous and grey.

I watch in awe, as their forms take shape,

A journey through time, a memory escape.

Some wraiths are happy, filled with laughter and glee,

Others are somber, with a tinge of melancholy.

But each one holds meaning, a piece of my soul,

A reflection of a moment, that once made me whole.

The ink is a vessel, that captures it all,

The joy and the pain, the rise and the fall.

The memories that matter, that shape who we are,

They're etched in the ink, like a brilliant star.

As I write down my stories, the ink flows like a stream,

A never-ending tale, a poet's sweet dream.

The wraiths keep appearing, with each stroke of my pen,

And I know that with each one, a piece of me is etched again.

The ink to my words, a magical spell,

A force that brings memories, to life and to tell.

It weaves a tapestry, of moments that matter,

A window to the past, that nothing can shatter.

The ink is a blessing, a gift that we share,

A way to remember, the moments we dare.

It's a reminder to cherish, the life that we lead,

And to never forget, the moments that we need.

The wraiths keep dancing, as the ink flows free,

A symphony of memories, for all to see.

They twirl and they glide, in a graceful sway,

And I know that these memories, will never fade away.

For the ink is forever, a testament to life,

A storybook of memories, through joy and through strife.

And as long as we write, the ink will remain,

A tribute to our lives, a never-ending refrain.

So let us keep writing, with ink and with heart,

For the memories that last, are the ones that impart.

And let the wraiths keep coming, with each stroke of our pen,

For they're the materializing memories, that will never end.

love poems

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ARJ Gamingyt

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    ARJ GamingytWritten by ARJ Gamingyt

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