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The flow is leak, the silence is long, the quiet is quiet, the heart is steady, the rumbling is soft, the pain is deep, the shadows appear, the pain is grief, the poet hit bottom, the poet bounced back
the knife was swift, on the attack.the rage was building, the silence was deafening, the heart was filled with defiance, and fear, of what could have been but afraid to unleash my mortal strings
poet jumps off a cliff into the rift, creativity unleashed, rage is out of control, knife becomes pen, words become life, death becomes words and the poet is reborn.
the flow is weak but the poet is strong, he lives on
