Scratching the paper destroying the face, He was killing the characters he wanted to create.

The Bizarre Faces

A fog waved from the window,
It stilled the silence and built a shadow.

Pace of breath was tuning with caprice 
in mood,
Tangled emotions which can’t be understood.

Scratching the paper
destroying the face,
He was killing the characters he wanted
to create.

Breathing heavily out of frustration,
Magician of ink was trapped in his own illusion.

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