The Origin's Voice Finds it's Medium

To ease the tension of trembling hands

Souls seek expression

Through the voice of man

.

Constant change is in full season

All life's stains, I yearn to free them

With fertile ground to plant the feet in

The origin's voice finds it's medium

.

To simply mask, it's volume grows

To express, to release

Quite even in prose

How many brilliant thoughts are simply jot?

Consider the checks marked, but moment's lost

To revisit is to revive

Or scribble out in pen and toss aside

.

My mind's conceptions, once hindered by production costs

Quite frankly, my presence, preferably lost

This pen is now writing me

My body aches, I long for sleep

A life sentence, but oh so free

Contentment resides

I share it's peace

.

An icepick pen

A cliff-like page

Up, up, up,

I've fixed my gaze

A new shiny chisel chips away,

All life's tensions are kept at bay

.

To block the thoughts

Their fluid streams

What was once, is now not

but simply dreams

Finally I'm free.