.

i wach as this essence drips from my lips
and it flows onto the ink
making it take shape in words;
a form of script so alien
yet it feels right.
in the purest form of calm...
i watch them colour the air
hues of every shade.
when it escapes,
there is no stopping the radiance
it causes the storm;
the war of the worlds
any mishaps, mishapen forms;
cost the writer many lifes.
words are pouring onto this earth,
bringing to life so many dead thoughts
reviving thoughts that were long dead.
can you hear me?
this echo of tears cry out,
screaming into the wind
only to be lost to the shadows.
is this surrender?
my fight can only last for the frailest
and the dripping begins again;
i can feel these thoughts coming to an end...
do you know of whick i speak?
it feels like this faucet has be closed of
and eternity of words
capped of in the longest of silence
when shall they brake free?