On Writing Poem by Matthew Holloway

The pen is drawn from my soul
It's ink a combination made
Of my own blood and tears
It's writes not from me
But through me unrestrained
Outspoken and free flowing
I am but the author
The ghost writer of a life
Set amongst beauty and art
Love, passion and dreams
Sadness and madness, rage
Echo and screams that whisper
On the page and the screen
I write not as I think or feel
I write what flows through me
Through the pen and page
Each poem and story begins and ends
As each wishes too