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I write like a madwoman.I write like a madwoman.Scribbling across the page my pencil burnsDeep into the paper; the smell of smokeSignals the creative fireRaging within my mind.Flames lick across the rampaging lines,Scorching the letters into permanentSemblances of being.Words takes shape,Large and feral, as I cry in the pain, theStrength of emotion,And the primal need to translateThisInto language.Feel the ecstasy and relief,The catharsis in these words as theyTumble onto the page, baring souls to a levelWe never knew existed.For here we are free, in the paper we are alone.The chains which hold our minds in place are lost;The pencil flies unfettered across the page.I am drunk on freedom and dashing headlongFor the finish line, the end of the page, when,On a whim, crazy and wild,I send the train of thoughtCareening off the tracks; it crashes,Violently, into the nearest solid object.Stone walls crumble, Zeus's Thunder snaps,The heavens awaken.Chains are broken; prisoners flee
The Weeping CupCome to the weeping cupCome and sip your sorrows in peaceDrink deeply, drink fully'Til every last drop is gone.Rest your hand against soft petal's edgeSigh into the silent air.Release your tears, let them flow unboundLet grief be welcome, thenLet it fade away in time.Let memories between each teardropTake root in softened heartsFor the love that once wasAlways shall be.