With tendrils of ink it reaches out to ensnare you
You don’t see it coming, wouldn’t suspect
That these innocent pages could envelope
Your mind that blithely accepts.
Its power is in how it moves you
Makes you think things you’d not thought before
Like waves expanding, ever-outward
Your mind ripples never reaching the shore.
You’re moved to act, to seek, to live
A mad longing for things forbidden,
When you know there are good reasons for
These things remaining hidden.
“That book you sent me so fascinated
me that I forgot how the time was going.”
“Yes: I thought you would like it.”
“I didn’t say I liked it, Harry. I said it fascinated me.
There is a great difference.”
“Ah, you have discovered that?”
Oscar Wilde, Picture of Dorian Gray
Author notes
An epigraph written for class.
Comments
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Welcome to AllPoetry
This was an intruiging piece, definately holds that all familiar darkness within, just one suggestion the spelling mistake in the title is a little bit distracting.. but it is a great piece
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