Just the random seeds,
Planted deep within the soil of me.
Often remain silent, yet always conscious,
Between the pages of my thought process.
Give me music with little notes and clefs,
To be played when life strikes certain keys.
Create a song,
That reverberates and penetrate,
My inner unconscious soul.
Talk to my jitters and illusions,
Endow me with a clear vision.
My gracious words, yet sometimes cruel,
Painted my canvas of life so real.
They are my friends and foe,
Some sit still on the page,
Holding my story, never letting it go.
Some have wings,
That wake me up in my daydreams.
Wander in my woods of thoughts,
Guard my conscious,
To create my weakness, to spawn my strength.
My words, found by my thoughts,
My thoughts, found by my emotions.
My words, they are my emotions.