When I look around ,
I can see thousands of artistic people ,
writing masterpieces about their lives ,
denoting their sentiments through astounding language , and creating the tokens of love and pain and happiness and sorrow-
with deeper and darker sense , that touches everyone's heart and leave its mark on their internal soul.
But when I lift up my pen try to spit out the feelings of mine- through a bunch of eloquent phrases ,
all of a sudden I become numb , my mind becomes absolutely blank.
I try again and again to detect the perfect word ,
which can portray the euphoria- that makes my body shiver ,
when I think of holding my lover into my arms.
Which can describe the Stardust that sparkles all over my body , when my beloved kisses mildly on my forehead.
Which can elucidate the satisfaction that runs through my blood ,
when I see my parents' happy faces.
Which can illustrate the calmness that I feel ,
when I observe the very first dim of light of dawn embracing the unreal beauty of a little flora , and the cold but amiable morning zephyr gently caressing the deep green grasses ,
that are peacefully resting upon the earth.
Which can narrate ,
the darkness ,
that is silently lying down underneath of my exquisite soul , on the spotless page of my diary.
After looking for a very long time ,
I fail.
My paralyzed mind makes me comatose.
The empty page on my notebook remains blank.
I continue to feel thousands of feelings at one time -
happiness , sadness , anxiety , anger , compassion,
but my fingers stay motionless. My heart pumps those emotions through my veins ,
they crumble through my blood and crawl to my mind ,
assuming that it'll be able to spot that 'PERFECT PHRASE' -
that can let them out ,
while my mind proceeds to hold onto the silence.
They start screaming and scratching through the dense wall of stillness.
But , they end up being tired.
At the end I keep the pen on its place ,
and leave the white page unscratched.
