`

Invisible but not voiceless,
This fire within me burning;
Fueled by things long since done;
Uncertain it would continue

And most certainly would one day end.

Resounding vermillion trains,
Travelling across frontier lands;
That began by fits and starts.
But this is just the beginning,

And most certainly is not the end.

Smearing the silence with my thoughts:
Scarlet ink on blue paper;
Conversing along the lines;
Uncertain it would continue,

And most certainly would one day end.

Slumbering souls awaken,
Speaking to us on paper;
Streaking sheets with stunning stains.
But this is not the beginning,

And most certainly is not the end.
 

`

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