Get into your seat, writer,
Find your home inside the ink,
Construct the walls out of paper,
Your desk out of pencils,
And your pipes out of hollowed pens.

I know you fell for the feeling,
But it's easy to get lost in it all,
If you walked away now,
I know you'd go insane.

Upon your mirrors there's words,
Reflections that spell your introspection,
Flip it around cause it's too much noise,
Cause, writer, the sound is burdening you.

I know you fell for the feeling,
But it's easy to get lost with it all,
Crashing down on your thin walls,
I know you're going insane.

Carry no fear in your heart
Nor on your shoulders, shame
For the end is nothing more
Than the start by another name.

It is strange how we yearn
For what we have never known.
Nostalgic for a time long past
Before our seeds were sown.
Homesick for a feeling lost,
For a land so green and sure.
For a shore we have never seen,
For waters that have never graced
Nor lapped our weary feet.
For a space we thought was ours
For the darkness that hangs in waiting
Between the gaps among the stars.
For the peace we have never found
For the war we have always sought
For the feelings we seldom caught,
For the love of all unbound.

Carry no fear in your heart
Nor on your shoulders, shame
For the end is nothing more
Than the start by another name.

the nectar of love
only comes with
the poison of pain,
two for the exorbitant price of one

standing
at the chasm of life and death
destroyed by love
grief remains as life’s sole friend

the memories of love
now belong to time
and this aging body to the five elements.

© 2019