NaPoWriMo Day #14

This is a new and very challenging poetic for, at least for me. I found myself, once again, in that dark corner, watching the shadows of the greats.

The picture here is how I *want* it to look, but formatting here is difficult.

But here's my first attempt.

Thanks to Nicole Nicholson for the great prompt.

The Cleave: Between Papa and Bard

A traitor he calls it
Cramped and clawed
Untrained, aged
Its twin ragged, bloody
Still holding the line
Waiting for sharks

On one hand there’s
the craving, deep and dark
like bloody daggers
to write legends
move to ecstasy
words that spawn
splatter and spill

How deep does the scarlet
Seep, she wonders
Staring at the once familiar
Friends that shaped her future
No, they didn’t commit the act
But the blood’s still there