The Flow of My Writing

Behind pale sky, dark clouds
Strikes the sharp lightning
Somewhere there
Lies the flow of my writing.

Amidst the cries and noise
The blood of fighting
Someone there
Sees the flow of my writing.

Among the scent of lilies
The sense of dying
Something there
Hears the flow of my writing.

Along the black alley
A mother walks weeping
Someone there
Feels the flow of my writing.

On the pure white paper
My black ink tainting
I am there
To write the flow of my writing.