The quiet is overbearing
In a world standing still
Reduced to a room, a table
A paper and my quill
Thoughts are born and die
In the silence of this room
Where words are gently woven
Into poems on my lyric loom
Delving into my imagination
My mind is opened wide
Erasing all limitations
Inspiring paths untried
To be quiet and alone
Is what I need to indite
Enabling me to compose
With vigor and delight