Moisture of branches chyles and weeps
                                      chyles and weeps
                                      chyles and weeps
Shedding tears into the stream
Pilgrimming towards Sybaris
Wending
Streaming
Migrating as a breath in the cold
Sweeping
Prowling
Writhing
Gilding the shallowness
Snaking
Writing
Straying the depths
Echoing
Metering
Foraging among the starched garments of winter
Corybanting
Jauting
Evoluting
Storming
Lapping

A rock is kissed
Sending sanctity to the heavens

Emerging, seeking
Emerging, gentle
Emerging, aggressive
Emerging, thrusting
Emerging, violent
Emerging, fulfilled
Emerging, satisfied
Emerging

A prisoner confined in thought sitting at rest.There are not bars on any doors or barriers of shortness of lines.The prisoner is stuck buried in his own guilt of the everlasting pen and its stroke upon the white canvas of new beginnings.The prisoner has the option to leave anytime he wishes, but he chooses to stay with the others lost in the mass vocabulary of the world.Only he just needs some kind of motivation: a step, a push, a word, on the open ground, and paper of evoluting progress.Instead he remains confined waiting for the prison guard to shut the door as they always had time and time before.Confining him and his pen, but never his dreams.How did he end up here? In this prison of silence and blankness.Only to speak again when the words settle his rusty chains and his calloused hands latch onto the pen once more.