There are many things I cannot do
More are there things I do not understand
Countless are the things I do not know
But what I can do, what is tangible for me
I imagine in the palm of my hand
And lock within my fist, it's bottomless cage
What I do understand, I wrap around me
Like a chrysalis, a sheild of safety
And it protects me, my ward against the world
However what I know, that I do not covet
I give that away to passerbys, to strangers and friends
Like a sage, a mentor or philosopher
Perhaps things like emotions escape me
As my heart abandons feelings
The ones that pass through my fingertips
From my pen to paper
But writing is what I hold within my fist
It is how I makes sense of the world
It is every one of my senses
I see, taste, touch, smell and hear
Through a world beyond words
Like a magic veil, I see into anothers conscience
All the things they hold dear, what they cannot live without
All the things they regret, what they wish would wash away
In even the faintest moment and smallest thing
I feel all those emotions of which I've never known
But more than that I feel one thing that I can call my own
The passion, I feel that tearing through my bones
I can feel it burning in my lungs and my heart becomes a hearth in a cabin of nothing
For a moment I am filled with warmth like no other
And that feeling is one I'd chase to the ends of the Earth
Into the darkest chasm and within the brightest light
For it is the only one thats real within my world