The Impulse.

Suddenly driven, Taken by the Impulse.

Compelled to act for fear I might convulse.

I pour myself like paint onto my task.

Mind rolling, Head reeling, what it is I do not ask.

chaos and confusion pours like fire from my fingertips.

Not even bothering to match the words uttered by my lips.

A beautiful asymmetrical logic emerges, Wading though chaos to form.

Spurring me on even more, Making my mind explode into fragments like a swarm.

My hands numb as my eyes blur, sound fades as the world catches fire.

Taken only by my one and completely singular desire.

Bringing forth creatures of bizarre design.

Is it madness? Is this my subtle sign.

But the chaos and fire are addictive, a sign I am still alive.

And i think to myself, I wonder what will happen next. 



  • WriteBeLight

    I feel like I am watching an artist create something amazing!

    • myinnervoice

      lol thank you

      • WriteBeLight

        You are very much welcome😄

      • Augustus

        The speaker is able to create like a god it seems. That is awesome. The poem has a freshness to it and is well constructed.

        • myinnervoice

          thank you, i had fun writing this one

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