Night Write

Why this time? Why this time of night? That all I have to say, Becomes easy to write? When all throughout the morning, And the sun's displays' of light, And all throughout the evening, I cannot seem to write. But care I will not, As long as they're free, The thoughts that were there, On here they shall be. And up all night, If I shall need to stay, Until the sun is bright, I'll write them away. But when does it stop? When does the flow end? When the new day is brought? When the sun shines again? It scares me to think, That age is the same That one day my ink, Will run out and remain.