Start typing... A soul that drags its feet, to the dark abyss. Start typing... time is running out, I can see the dark clouds. Start typing... why now. Start Typing... to be free by dawn. Start typing... Start typing... so the fear can be drown. Start typing... the machine is slowing down. Start typing... why you stop?
Crumbled up papers inkless marks your mind is scrambled so is your heart. Filled with doubts that the ink never will make words worth thinking about. So why pick up the dusty quill when the words never will cause a shrill? Besides the workload never chills so wasting time is a no deal. Though if you could sweep aside distractions from your mind maybe the quill could take flight. Why not give it a try?