• How much a song can keep a rhythm.
    A sound of a pen on paper.
    The ink fills this page.
    Thoughts give chills as my pen stops at a bottom end.
    A chapter never to be forgotten. Drawn to fine detail.
    Eyes wide open. Who am I when everything starts to change?
    Who will remember my words? What if God made up a book of lies. The new dawn of what I could have said.
    As the letters wrote out a mystery.
    The note that changed it all.