Inspired by various ambitions and emotions,
Ink stains the hands that grasp for intangible notions.
Saturated become the pages that embrace all their thoughts,
Exploring galaxies of the mind; inane astronauts.
Sentences stitched together like stars in constellations,
Forming shapes from endless conceptualisations.
Paragraphs run wildly, with terrifying precision,
Yet utterly essential is a writer’s excision.
Inevitably, like signals sent into outer space,
Works of art wrought from language orbit into place.