This is what I am meant to do

I'm an author, through and through

There has never been a doubt

Through every darkened cloud

They wanted to hide from me my purpose

They wanted me to become ever wordless

I can see that they tried their damnedest

In the end, all of the effort proved worthless

All of my words generate from a sickness

Through the trauma and the trouble, expression will fix it

Perhaps then, I'll be able to sleep again

I'll be able to call my mind a dear old friend.