Winds whistle words, hands fail to write
And no thought can be called 'eve'.
Such a moment caresses my day
Everything I have but none for me.

Life coagulates,
Like blooded fingertips.
Creativity screams in the abyss
Of idleness, nothingness and all.

No cause to fight for, a tragedy.
I am a war hero, of
A war never fought, a sword never raised
To reflect the sun of battlefield.

Fingers move on paper to write;
Writing a moment and my life.
Ink's flow is curbed for words,
Words that are deaf, they decay and die...