The words of my hand curl

Like burning sheets of paper

The lead of my pencil gets erased

And then rewritten

Quickly, the lined paper begins to fill

The water of my inspiration pouring over it

The pencil scratching and my hand brushing paper 

The sounds float as irregular music

 

Scenes of war and beauty

Colors splashed across the canvas

Voices resounding and echoing

Emotions like oceans: waxing and waning

Moments flicked and freeze

All in the stage of my mind

 

Finally, the music ceases

The paper's thirst replete

All the actors I held inside

Flowed out into creation

Of black words and white spaces

Written in single-minded purpose

To express the unheard voices