This_Hand

Fiery hand and scrawled writing.
Quick words and quicker still.
A heart pumping hot blood and anger
With Love's deepest crevice to fill.

Somewhere the soul lies so lonely,
Too desolate even to feel.
Likewise the mind isn't thinking
And cannot accept what is real.

Until the flood of life, crimson feeling,
Sweeps them up with the pain and the tears,
And pours from this pen I am weilding
With intention to quiet my fears.

My art defies logic and reason,
Giving my heart the courage to stand.
And my self raises up, crying freedom!
Passion formed from this fiery hand.