My pen feels alien as i mould my fingers around it, in the aim of forming well structured sentences, eye catching phrases and clauses.
The dormant state of my composition has caused for my mind to bring more thought to my thinking about that which influences the worlds i exist in.
The vocabulary in my head seems to be loosing its wealth but i fear not for i have once again taken up penmanship, therefore new words will come to my learning.
My hand will lead the my pen and with the inevitable assistance of my subconscious i will conjure masterpieces.
These writings may not be used by scholars decades after i am nothing more but a memory in peoples minds.
My writings may not make it further than the eyes that set the path for proper sentence construction yet i am determined to continue with my literate establishments.
For these words soothe the hurt the world throws my way,
Makes most of the pain i feel fade away.
Makes most of the pain i feel fade away.
These words brighten even my deepest darkest days.
In my writings i see refuge.
In my inscriptions i find sanctuary.
In my establishments i have the power to bring anything i wish to life...
HAVE YOU THAT THING THAT MAKES YOU FEEL CONTENTMENT IN ITS PRIME??????
