When ideas run away,
When the pen can't write any faster,
When the inked pages of books fade away,
When the colours become dolorous,
When I see graves all around,
When dreams telescope a horror,
When I am left alone in a desert,
When pangs reverberate,
When hopes die down,
When my dreamworld rubs off,
When tranquility turns into vociferation,
When life seems no more than a calamity,
When heads behead,
When cries multiply,
When I am prisoned in expectations,
When my bliss is infringed,
When my comfort asphyxiates me,
When beloved parchment smells stale,
I feel a hole in my soul.