I sat down on a chair
With the hot sun
I faced the sun with a piece of paper
In my hand, a pen
That dispersed ink all over the paper
Just like a group of ants
Words just kept on flowing and flowing
The paper could not run from all this torture
Exposing it to all leviathan things
Both eldritch and normal
The indelible ink all over the paper
Both good and bad words kept on flowing
As long as they made me happy
No matter what the weather would be, halcyon or calm
Ink still flowed on paper
The paper could not deny any of it
Unless ink would run out.

But of course, there is no law of the thumb
Both good and bad attentions
Expressed on paper
Regenerating more words
The sun hit harshly, as it could
But the ink still dispersed more letters
Letters dancing with joy
Just on and on
The paper does not refuse the ink
Ink dried up
As fast as possible
The skies became grey
At this time, the sun had set.
My pen still maneuvered
Just to achieve the beauty of dreams
On that very paper
The paper still accepted the ink.

Letters from the top of the page to the bottom
Letters dancing freely and flawlessly
I got in doors and the ink just kept on flowing
And paper receiving
I’m sat here in the garden
A wonderful and cold morning
Armed with a pen and paper
The cool breeze blowing
Ink kept on flowing on paper
Just like water flowing from the top of the mountain
My heart expressing every feeling through the ink on paper
The paper gladly received all the ink’s frustration
Every letter swiftly moved on and on
The colour of the ink
Beautifying the paper
Drops of ink dripped on paper
Just like drops of rain
Drip to the ground
All countless like the hairs in our head
Just like the land releases the aroma of soil
When it’s raining
The paper releases the aroma of all kinds of feelings
Paper did not refuse ink
Ink released from my pen
Like tiny ants on paper
The words continued to flow
Making the alphabet senseless.

Making something good for us to read
The little droplets of ink
Escaped just like a caterpillar from its nest
Transformed into a butterfly
The ink so dark and heart taking on paper
Just like the beautiful color’s, of the butterfly’s wings
It was not about the length
But the ink still went on and on expressing everything
The hand got tired but the pen worked tirelessly
Ink released
The ink shining
The paper seemed to have written poignantly on paper
No wonder the paper does not refuse the ink
Ink in different colours
All accepted by paper
Just like a cup
Accepts all different amounts of water
Just like bread and tea
Ink and paper are great comrades
That’s, ‘paper does not refuse ink’.