These words that I write
Are forever flowing words
They do not die
They do not run dry
They are forever sustaining
Forever hopeful…
It is he who writes these words
From heart and soul
To pen and paper
It is he who runs dry
It is he who dies inside…
From turning his back
To what lies in front
To taking a stroke
In a dry lake…
These words that I write
Do not diminish in time
They are forever there
As long as these eyes can witness happiness
As long as this heart can feel pain,
Words will never run dry…
Words will never run dry…
They are as pure as a mother’s touch,
As true as the melody of a hummingbird…
These words will never run dry…