I know not what to write,
but what I write is for your eyes.
I see the world and its agony
and wish my spirit to paradise.

But I'm still here and see its pain.
I am lost within this maze
of so many thoughts and tears.
I see naught through this haze.

I seek to rest my mind
from so many feelings of doom,
and wait to see what happens next
in the solitude of my room.

I'm not alone. I know
someone looks after me
with wings of heavenly white.
It's true. It's not a fantasy.

Yet, I'm tired, my mind's on leave,
I can't think, nor can I write.
What I need is a break
from all the sleepless nights.

So with heart in hand,
this is my love I'm writing.
I will see you all that remember
that writing is love in giving.