Poem of a Poem

Shrouds of darkness hits me like a slight feather’s touch
Unknowing of the insomniac I have become.
While silence stirs from the outside,
Sounds of ideas flurry in my mind like shoppers in a bazaar
As I escape the drones of the mundane world for a moment
And delve into a pool of flowing creativity.
The union of pen and paper embodies my ultimate expression;
The fruits of my labor come into fruition.
My creation.