These lines will voice from another
To which it has spoken before
In search and finding it sought out
Crevices unresolved to never be repaired
Only to swim in and be drenched in sorrow,
Expressing the woe as to drown
In the blackness again and again
Can this be all this writing can do
Can the pen seek refuge in relief and
Never learn solace in peace
What teachings will rise the soul to freedom
Or what words seek its rescue
I have ventured honestly through these lines
To break walls and fall the barrier of clenching silence
I write them to lead me to better compositions
Answers to questions that inquire my
Reason of being
They go endless and eager as if
They know to Whom they
Belong
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