Emotional turmoil, they drown me. But float I must, and the tides of fear will never get to me. I see her shadow, lurking, out of my grasp. She flits, I flinch. But oh the candle, reason and rationality, she blows them out. No, whimper I. And the cloak of inspiration, beautiful destruction lulls me. Oh doubt, my demon within. She makes me feel brave.
I have not written poems for far too long. Being a business student, I am not supposed to indulge in such artistic pursuits but they lure me in with their tantalising promises of a brilliant future within the art industry. Such falsehood! I wish I had a choice to read Literature as a major instead. I love the fluid words, the sneaky little punctuations and the smirk of the writer when witnessing readers furrowing their eyebrows, attempting to unravel their secret language. I love books, I love poems. I miss them all.