Let It Die

Yearning for creativity
The human mind divine
Only when in true pain
Do words come out and shine

And the few things coming
When there is no pain
Works of art become so pure
A known fact being that I am sure

Staying in place comes a seldom day
This poem is nothing but sweet decay
Decay of the mind that sets me free
With silly little fans all ready to see

The failing and falling put into this wreck
The sidejobs and waiting and slitting of necks
Some people choose pain and art as a choice
Others simply ignore their inner voice

Needing to write and needling the fear
Even when you know your love is quite near
And life is going perfect, or so you can tell
Never let your art go into this Hell

Beauty overtaking a stranger world in
Even through happiness can come pure sin
Inspiration lacks until the mind sets
Even when weary, never let your mind rest