The Night Prior

The ticking clock (the silence)
An anxious heart
Where are you?
Are you ready?

He is ready
and I, writing
Writing to finish
Writing to be free

I have found a friend
Who's everything to me
Is often a lie
As the flesh can attest

Sometimes I simply want to create
To write sounds that will transform
That will cause a seed to break
Through the hardest of rock, or soil, of hardness

I am my worst enemy
The battle rages within
And often I tell the flesh
"sic"