I can feel it, my heart turning blue.
Inspiration comes and the words flow.
Not without tears, not without pain.
I see it taking shape, on the blank paper, in front of me.
What I feel exactly, turning into words.
It is beautiful, it is horrible,
These words mirror my heart.
I have to get it, before it escapes.
I must ****** it from the æther
Before it's gone forever
And does the poem come out,
I bear it, a painful birth for both it and me
And so it comes out
Through my eyes with tears.