POETRY

I'm still.

Wondering
Ink, Indelible,
Leaving
Lacerations.

Nothing moves.
Even the night is
Viciously silent;
Enter a state of
Repression

Falling
As stone,
Leaving
Lacerations.

Intelligent
Nothings.

Lamentations, like an
Overture of
Vivaldi;
Enter and dance.

Annoyance
Gives to
Anger.
Intelligent
Nothings.

If anyone can guess what this poem is about, i give you a prize :D