On a grey day filled with rain that never stopsAs my heart screams but can't be heard, time continues to clockI have news--good, bad, happy, and sadYet I have no one around to tell them as they're too busy musedWith their pleasures and ecstasy, yet they're blind to seeThat I need some of this ecstasy that's blind to me  However, when I pick up this pen, it becomes a swordA sword containing the soul of a billion wordsas the white canvas blows the breath of life with each strokeReleasing the grip of Death's choke on my mind  And I write, I write for myselfI write for my own healthI write to purge lonliness off meI write to cleanse the wickedness and become freeI write for you as wellThat my encouraging words deliver you from hellYou can't escape as I make the keyIt's up to you to grab it from my hand and unlock eternal peace