The thriving continuum - writing

Words that scream and whisper,
Encourage and taunt,
Used as weapons, equally well sung,
Incoherent till placed upon worthy ones' tongue
Perpetual, immortal living like eternal flame
The flame that is my passion,
For each word written, every strange new name

My hand that moves so swiftly, but free,
Not like a cold soulless machine,
Words formed not on my tongue,
Or even my mind,
Unconsciously creating brilliance,
So exquisite, sublime
So still I am creating this artwork,
In comedy, solemnity, bittersweet lament
Expressive, ingenious every word meant

I live just for that swell of pride,
So vain, and self-obsessing,
In the cultural whirlwind, it is writing,
It's blown my mind,
It is more than repetitive nonsense,
So easily spoken,
It's expression of jubilance and fear,
Of a happy heart just broken

Typed, perfected,
Writing like a mindless drone,
No passion resides in the soul,
What use is perfection?
Driving us to insanity,
Crazy self-expression is what writing should be,
A random continuum thriving, so meaningful,

Ecstacy as it's finalised,
Braking through the media slaves,
Casting off the shackles of opression,
Freedom can walk again.