My mind is melting like the wax dripping down the candle before me …. It drips words upon the pages that lay before me spread out in a haphazard way … they like my mind is disconnected from my thoughts yet they are my thoughts… the room my desk is housed is dark yet for the candle light before me …to the right of my desk is a window flung wide open and the cool night air brings in sweet smells of the flowers just below … across the small room is a single bed which calls to me … yet I must not rest till the sunrise… I must ,I must place my melting mind at ease so I write to what avail but I must , must write through the night before the candle and my melting mind are a puddle of wax upon the desk .
