The papers are finished
And my pen is dry.
My writing is the only way
To keep me alive.
But with no paper,
No ink
And a mind clouded with fear,
How am I supposed to survive?
Writing is my life.
Without my writing
I'm like a walking corpse.
How can I go on
With an imagination
That's gone dry?
I'm dead -
Emotionally and mentally -
I am completely dead.
And if my mind
Doesn't clear up,
My supply of paper and ink
Doesn't replenish,
Then I will become
Physically dead too.
Finding peace has always been a struggle for me. But if there is one thing I can wish for the world, it's peace, love, more tolerence, faith, hope and trust. I hope you find it somewhere out there.... more..
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