Upon the emptiness of a page

Writing on an empty page, is like drawing in an empty soul

Your emptiness is our only inspiration
treating us as a bad ruler would
to his pure, kind nation.
And nothing more to do we could

but fill your lines, with our inner,
whitest thoughts and darkest hours.
We have to tell, as all, we are sinners
and thus I want your force to be ours.

We keep on hiding though as we cannot
find our strength in soul.
We are alone, never a whole
as are drawn pages in a drawing book.

We are ideas, we are words
and we invade to white paper
crafting your worlds.

Worlds filled with sadness, with despair
worlds full of romance, toughness. And a pair
of stars to shine on us is your mind....

With your colors being love and happiness.