"A Writer's Soul"
Sitting at ease
Wandering that won't seem to cease
Spilling out the blood of my heart
In the form of black ink.
Inner meanings of my biggest desires
Flows in this calligraphy of mine
Bitter truths in life I turn into fantasy
A prophet of my world not just a realist.
Words, letters and sentences
Cunningly placed in perfect tense
Morphing the emotions of its readers
Swinging their sanities like roller coaster.
As long as paper and pen exist
I'll spread my wings and fly away
I'm a conscious dreamer always lost
But find my way back through my soul.
-October/November 2011
An: This is actually written during an activity in English class... :)
