Another sentence,

that no one will see.

Another penance, 

for everything I can't be. 

 

Centuries past,

Romantics and Shakespeare, 

their words still last, 

they've yet to disappear. 

 

Passion consumes me,

what do I desire?

Easy ---a legacy.

All I want is to inspire. 

 

Fire and stardust, 

no in-between.

My motives are just, 

living off caffeine. 

 

Desperation and aching,

from words not yet said. 

Energy and waking, 

thanks to those already dead. 

 

Taking time, it is now I find, 

Crafted from their poetry,

I have destroyed and combined --

I am a reborn entity.