flame

As my room fills with the aroma of warmth and vanilla, the gentle glow pouring over me and my walls . the ethereal beauty of the flame as it crackles and dances in its glass . as the world succumb to slumber i come alive , haunted by words beseeching to be freed of my mind , entranced by the sound of the paper as the pen glides as if on its own accord, delighted by the sound of the keys in their rhythmic cadence . words flowing just as if they were alive all along . through the music of the night , and the light of the moon i become putty to my words allowing them to use me as their canvas .