Dawn & Dusk

A lament

God, why have you made me
To be a writer?
To be inflicted
With these desires?

Pain builds up
Within my soul
Until it bursts out
In these words of turmoil

In my head
Words scream aloud
Worlds are being born
Characters wander around

My mind will not rest
It will not stop
Constantly it urges me
Otherwise it will rot

I love it and I hate it
It excites and terrifies me
It is the burden of a purpose
Of which I will never be free