I gave flight to my thoughts, freedom to my feelings.
My soul soared
And I was at peace.
I had a voice that roared, and spoke in whispers when needed.
I touched hearts.
The reader was encouraged to think outside the box
Or stay safely cushioned in the warmth of emotion.
Yet time has a mind of Its own, and I write no more.
Not by choice, mind you -
I would love to be able to pen prose to make you cry again.
But I cannot.
Perhaps one day the Gods will set my mind free.
Perhaps one day my soul will soar
I will touch hearts.
And I will be at peace.
In a time, not so long past, I was a writer; a weaver of words.