Verba volant, scripta manet
Words are idle, the written word remains
When I am long time gone
my words will still obtains


A writer, a poet
needs to be read
But the written words are empty
if the poet's soul is dead


Thats why I fear the silence
It kills to be ignored
Such waste of emotions
Feelings I can't afford


Negative attention is better
than no attention at all
To be disregarded
will be the writer's fall


I interpret my visions
transforming them to poetry
What you are reading
is the deepest part of me


Rejecting my written words
is to despise what I may be
Thats why I fear the silence
Thats why it's killing me