Poetry flows in vacant hours.
When all thats left
is time for thought.
My thoughts this time,
seems to devour.

I enclosed myself
in pitch blackness.
To see what I could find.
What I found, split the dark,
like rays of morning light!

So think of me,
for my words and thoughts,
not for what I've done.
I layed my soul to sleep
all cosey, warm and numb.
I made a vow to drink myself
into the soft aplomb.