Ink,
Precious liquid cloak of my heart
You babble with peace of a gentle stream.
You are the water that can revive me
You rage like blood poring from the veins on a battlefield.
You consume me as I lay bleeding waiting to dye the ground beneath.
You apply your stroke on the canvas, forming something beautiful, If even only to the artist.
You sweet release, you everlasting friend,
With your sweeping path left behind after your Journey across the pages, I am soothed and I am comforted.