Fluid Divine
This magic elixir, black as tar,
that stains the paper so.
Has a connection through my hand
and this instrument, to my soul.
It draws upon my deepest thoughts,
memories, passions eccentric.
To spill them forth for all to see,
these stains on paper, wax poetic
This thick brew that speaks through me,
with imagery, rythym and rhyme.
Only seems to get bolder,
with my need of it over time.
More addictive than the finest drug,
is this fluid divine.
I cradle it between my fingers,
spilling it, for it is mine.
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