Battle

I stare into it The blank white void That threatens to swallow my pen That dares me to fill it up With thoughts Thoughts that I need to share Thoughts that I can't share With words of the mouth' My pen, my weapon This is how I conquer it The beast, the paper This is how I express me I put the pen to work The white, scarred with black The beast shrieks As I work, my thoughts become its wounds My feelings; its scars The ink flows freely now The pace, it quickens My hand, it numbs I unleash the fury of my emotion The passion takes hold It guides my hand In swift, fervent strokes Stop. The beast lay silent I let my weapon rest Look what I have done My thoughts and feelings My hopes and dreams Lay as bloody scars Upon the hide of the monster I slew it to say what I really feel I killed to make my feelings real I bested it, I won My poem, my work my art, is done.