Once I was starling voice at dawn, 
A flock of chimed echoes on my tongue,
Wheezing whistles on choralled lawn,
Each verse a mimic so sweetly sung.

Now I’m a lyrebird lost in the brush,
Framing my solos in shadowed boughs,
With heart unfolding in trembling rush,
A lonesome lilting with hidden vows.

With cheeslets and flummox in my beak,
I sift the flock’s bright feathers from my cor...

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Sticking to a theme instead of writing what comes to mind
I'd simply put pen to paper and let the thoughts flow fully
Having an idea to think to is unnatural and code breaking
Let me write as though I am indeed free

Voyage to the caverness depths of everything
Float above the shallow reality of living
Shackled by 
Oh, the cream of this doughnut is filling

Dark but bright 
Light but gr...

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