If sadness is my creativity,
Then gladly i would never write again.
If talent is the bail to set me free
Then I shall give it all to banish pain.
Though others praise my verse as gorgeous art
(Admittedly I love this art as well)
Each line pulls out a fiber of my heart,
And dips it in the ink that pools from hell.
Though eloquent and beautiful it seems
'Tis only pain that brings these poems alive.
Yet only in the torment of my dreams
I find that which i truly want revived.
Burn my paper, break all my pens in two -
For naught I write will save my heart from you.
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