Catching Words

No wind, just an intense fume of warmth, and the fake lights of a city night
A need to create, a need to feel, a need to catch words that don't come to me.

This is the dead end of certainty, the logic that bounds phrases be gone,
There are no meanings and there's no flow, what has my mind done?

Immovable with no way to go, I wish to fly or fall but obviously I can't
If I were to ask for help, my mouth won't move, I be stuck with a lack of words.

What it is there to convey anyway? The solitude, the darkness, the person that I am?
I don't have a muse nor inspiration, no precise sentiment nor a specific memory...

Is this a waste of time, lost in the wonder of nothing, perhaps an unfulfilling wish to be?
These are words, objects, logic and a rhythm of waves that still don't make sense.

I just want to catch them all: feelings, memories, statements, ideas, feelings
Catch them, make them my own, let them be a pattern created from my soul.

Absurd that nothing comes up at this time, at this night, at this hour,
Everything seems to be living endlessly in a powerless breath.


Jumping in space, net in hand, I still can't catch those stardust words,
Am I wrong in trying to catch them just on my own?

It doesn't matter anyway,
It is a fruitless adventure...

To catch words in a mute space...with nobody to help.