Spark

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When I feel stressed

The words flow from my mind to the paper

With ease and steadiness

An occasional tear is shed

Each word pondered and reflected upon

Each phrase is written over again seldom repeatedly

Each title worried over for minutes on end

As I let out a cry of either anger or glee

I feel as if I could touch the moon

While my hand moves over each key with care

I lose myself in a realm that only I can see

In a space so frail yet more striking

Full of hopes and dreams

Yet my defeats also fill this void

A design

Or epiphany

Brings me back for an hour or more

Writing like mad

Or simply held in one place

The end only fills me with relief as I step away nearly panting

Some may call my actions insane

While others look upon it as crude

But I am once again lost in thought of one more world only I can formulate

One that I am on the very brink of

That you will see presently

I never know what road to take

I just write the destination

The rest will come at a later date

A fevered state only brings me more inspiration for the next page

A spark yet not a flame burns in my writing

A fire must be built upon my skill and craftsmanship

Tools that I sharpen every time I touch a key

Yet they are not ready

Not in the least

Which road to take?

What path to follow?

Another spark reveals and a new idea is exposed

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