When my pen moves
across the page,
Every line writes as
if from a sage.
Words turn into a
maze inside my mind,
As if the ink spilled
onto the paper just starts to rhyme.
Every day turns into
a journal I just have to explain,
It’s as if emotion is
in my every vein.
My blood turns into
the story; the purpose is the heart,
I never want to stop, but
always want to start.
Every moment has the
need to have its own story,
In addition, as if
every story wants to be free.
The best feeling in
the whole world,
For which to
describe, there isn’t a single word.
Eyes set on the goal,
Turning every half
into its whole.
The end nears; the
words start to fade away,
Now for a new
beginning, a new day....
