The Writer

It's my verse, I'm an author,
I shall rewrite it until I see your smile.
Take your pen and give me an answer.
Please, free me for a while.

It feels like a borrowed word
Without own body and soul,
Comes to touch in a little lack,
But it is too late!

It's my verse, I'm an author,
I shall rewrite it until I see the truth.
I hold my pen in a right hand,
God, let it be no pen.

Don't need a maze of the shattering door,
In that way I shall never answer.
I'm slowly lifting up the curtains of days
As deep as my heart.