For the health of a soul.

I write when my soul

Has been filled to the brim,

With the things that I see

And the wealth of my sin.

For the wall of this heart,

Cannot bear too much load

For my sake right now,

It all must unboard.

So I think and I muse,

And I tip my swell pen,

And I let it run over,

From now till the end.

It spills into words,

That capture my pain,

It fills me with love,

Again and again.

Because when I write,

I lose all that's wrong,

I take away the grit

That ruins life's song.

For the health of my soul,

I must let it all go

Because it can poison

The happiest soul.

So I write to lift up

What the world can pull down

I write to stay joyful

When the sun has gone down.