The Midnight Well A silent pool of midnight dark, Just waiting for the sudden spark. Like quiet aisles where volumes sleep, It holds a well of memories deep. It slumbers in the heavy glass, And watches fleeting moments pass, Until the pen begins to glide, Releasing all the worlds inside. A sudden stroke, a curving line, Where breath and syllable entwine. For every drop that stains the white, Brings hidden honesty to light. The life you live is yours to claim, Without pretense, without a frame. So let it spill and let it flow, To map the truths you fiercely know. A liquid voice, unbound and free, The essence of authenticity.
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