I write as I’m told,
Of the sights that unfold,
Of torture and torment and bliss.

I write for I can,
With the spirits at hand,
Filling in parts that I miss.

For the laughter and cries,
I lend you my eyes,
To see what it’s like to be me.

Close your mind,
Clear your heart,
From this world break apart,
Eventually you’ll start to see.

Hear the line in your head,
As if it’s just been said,
Write it down as another unfolds,
For it comes as a voice,
Unspoilt by choice,
Though supreme by the questions it holds.