The Writer's Plea

Meaningful mind in rhyming phrases
Overflowing emotions reflected on pages
Seem so endless expressions of sentiments
His words indeed so permanent like testaments.

The words ran out, the ink went dry
He got nothing to say but a sigh and cry
The thoughts could no longer be sought
He’s now in dismay, he is now too distraught

Sure his heart’s still beating
But his music lost the rhythm
The “works” no more make sense
To him his life better now ends

He lost his love, and so his faith
Will he able to stay? Is this his fate?
If only his love could ever survive
Amidst of all the pain he’ll be able to thrive

He prays, he begs, he pleads
All he possessed in exchange of love
There he is, for hours on his knee
Bring back the light so again he would see

To enrich his soul, he wanted the love
To moisten the soil, freeing the caged dove
It’s the one he asks, all that he should have
Inspiration to recollect, to keep his words alive

Will he be heard?
Will he be granted?
He stared at his desk, gazed on the mirror
From there a man he saw, disoriented in rigor

He prays, he begs, he pleads
His possessions for the one He loves
Once again to feel, to touch, and unite
The light, his love, to be able to write.

©(02-2007)