This Man, My Fantasy

Who is this Man, Who speaks life with the ink of his Pen, Words flowing, time Slowing, Caught in his Illusion, Or do i mean in my own Confusion, Free me from this Delusion, Im lost in his Words, So familiar, and yet so Unheard, Fill me with his emotion, emptied out into my Ocean, Then drifting ashore, reality is my Illness, And he is my Cure, He is my fantasy you See, So spiritual, So Free, Fill me with his rhythm, up to my Capacity, Heart's pounding, he's drawing Near, Wishing him to whisper tantalizing things in my Ear, I watch his grin, as he releases his Pen, In my Hand, Suddenly, here I Stand, Alone, I awake to an empty Home, Was it all a Dream? It couldn't be, then I glance next to Me, And see his ink-filled Pen, Along with a Note, "Express how you Feel", That's all that he Wrote