Whenever I feel alone
My pen is my first haven
It becomes zealous to write down
My brain always want to underline
Yet my hands are hesitating and crane
Because my thoughts seem to me plain
My mind becomes blurred like a stain
My heart suffers from pain
My feather runs smoothly through the line
Over the window i contemplate the rain
It's my inspiration and creative divine
Energy thrums through my vein
At the flow of my brainchild sign
My pen bleeds with words of mine
Scrawls my feelings in quatrain
My emotions sway between joy and spurn
While bidding farewell to my swain
I am not used to complain
But my heart is no longer fine
My pen seems to bleed in vain
Because my ode remains unknown
The ache in my chest is increasing
The wretched feeling of bitterness is suffocating
Only my writings are releasing
When my train of thoughts keeps going
I know that's the beginning of healing
When my pen keeps bleeding
I finally feel my soul clean
I find my lost well-being
