Sitting, waiting
Pen in hand
What am I making
In this far away land?
Dragons flaming
Monarchs crying
Sickened maiming
Blood drying
Anger burns me,
Whole phrases dissipate
Where is the key?
Why has my Muse turned to Hate?
I used to be happy
People still say I am.
To me, I sound tacky
I used to have a plan.
My stories would be gay
Sadness wouldn’t touch here.
Why should my worlds pay,
For an ambitious career?
I was wrong
I see that now
Naivety strong
Spark lost, somehow.
I forgot a lesson of life
That all must learn
Happiness isn’t lack of strife
Love you must earn.
My characters lacked spark
A vivacious soul
Leaves a mark
Even if that’s not the goal
They came to me in dreams
Begging for more
Individuality, it seems
Is what they searched for.
I searched my memory
Thinking of them
I’d created them poorly
So I grabbed my pen
Written into their lives now
Hand in hand with Love
Is Passion, Desire and Sorrow
The tunes to which we move.
So my Muse turned to dark
Yet still lives in happiness
And the song of a lark
Gives him something more to bless
Darkness and Light
All of our souls
Bleak and Bright
Will break the mold
We’re all unique
With people who care
The future is less bleak
So please remember to share
Share Love and Sorrow
Passion and Hate
I’ll see my Muse tomorrow
I must go, I can’t be late!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem