In a blur the words tumble out,
Faster than light,
Now they cant be taken back,
Writing them down with a faster stroke,
The poetic prose,
These feelings overtake,
These feelings consume,
Blurs of reality,
The imprint on my soul,
I don’t see what I write,
It just comes out of me,
Not even touching my mind,
It’s as if the come from heart to fingers,
It is as if I am taken over somehow,
The daemon of poetry.
~*A little poem on how it feels sometimes for me when I am writing. It’s really as if it’s someone else writing. And sometimes I do ask myself ‘did I really write that?’.*~
