Words flee
from out
my head,
to hand
with pen,
now poised
to scribe
once more,
the voice
of reason,
becoming one.
Failing verse
of words
written before,
making a choice.
Rest you not
and don't rejoice,
for we must
move on.
Words flee
from out
my head,
to hand
with pen,
now poised
to scribe
once more,
the voice
of reason,
becoming one.
Failing verse
of words
written before,
making a choice.
Rest you not
and don't rejoice,
for we must
move on.