Spin the story eyes all alight, only echoes of ideas splash upon the page.
Insights become enigmas as they pour from your brain onto the sheet,
Your wildest thoughts become dull and dry even to yourself.
A husk of a vision lay before you. A lukewarm expression of your burning sentiment.
Others put beauty in words to transform into vision, into sound, into experience.
How much more magical was it before the whitewashed dulled down medium they used.
The sheet that robs you of spark and blots everything to black and white
Those coal black words can create color for some but my love of them is equal
Only to my frustration in not being able to paint upon minds with them.