I feel
like writing,
my pen
missing the fluency
of the paper floor
and the frequency
of my thoughts,
I do not know
what to write about,
neither do I
hear the voice
of inspiration,
can’t draw
on imagination,
gate way
to fantasy is
in vain,
the more I
black out
the more I
write,
just like am
doing now,
my hand
mind
soul
in tripartite.
It’s magical,
naturally it comes,
I will always
write….
