2. A Cry to my Pen

My impulses extend into your nerve as ink
My thoughts are these verses,
Mortal earth makes faces in a blink
Such are my doomed curses!
No seconds to stop, to halt, to think
Wage a battle against its forces.

Too much to ask and too much to give
I pray for death but want to live
I'm inside me and far beyond
Far enough to fathom a bond.

Against my will, against my pain
I dream aloud to remain sane
I greet the dead, celebrate the rain
Alas! my purpose - all in vain!

Note - This is a piece of text compiled to attract cognitive garbage with a goal to make the recycling of paper intellectually more effective.