Sitting their waiting for an answer,

There is none as I stare in the black abyss of life,

What has brought me here,

Was it pain, agony, strife?

Here I see now a light,

I back away like a lucid dancer,

I grind my way into the darkness again,

A paper slides and I try to act as though I see it not,

Why are these blank I seem to say,

while something slides down my face,

A tear?

I then take the darkness using it as ink to write,

My emotions and the darkness inside my life,

The darkness where has it gone?

I am now all alone,

A starry night with my now clothed papers,

Naked no longer,

Yet they are clothed in my emotional states,

That is of rage, agony, pain, sorrow, grief, and even love,

Writing is what lets it all flow,

So that I may let it all go...