Once you gave me

wings to fly,

told me I could

touch the sky.

Why everything

changed so much?

Why did you

burn my wings,

brought me back

down to your knees?

On the white screen dance the stringed dots
Mind spilled codes of hieroglyphic thoughts
Slowly they emerge handholding lines
Not always yielding intended designs.
Something was brewing inside the head
Coaxing to weave and take it ahead
The drunken horses so wildly gallop
There is no leash to make them stop.
Nerves are taut and they won't relax
Till all is vented they reach the ******
It was thus fated the moment it was sown
What's to be grown could never be known.
As the fever wanes arrives the new child
It may be adored or it may be defiled
The canvas is washed clean as in the rain
Something is brewing to be vented again.

Dark clouds come and go,
but the sun always stays.

Yet every dark cloud manages
to leave behind a scar–

one that even the blazing sun
can neither erase nor hide.

Writing's worse,
Music doesn't work,
Talking to you helped,

I guess I didn't want to hear,


What I knew you'd say



Eventually