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Excitement causes my body to tremble
As inspiration overflows from my mind.
Ideas come fresh as the spring rain,
Filling my heart with cheer.
There is nothing I have to prove;
With my pen, I’ve conquered the night.

I own this blessed night.
All who read my words will tremble
At the truths and wisdoms I prove
From the confidences of my mind.
Let them raise their glasses in a cheer,
And use their bodies to shield me from rain.

There seems less growth from the rain,
And I now grow weary in the night.
The pen still recalls my cheer,
Though in my fingers it begins to tremble.
Is it possible to empty or confine the mind,
Or deny all that I did once prove?

Grant me time, so my talent I might again prove
For I cannot endure the critic’s acidic rain.
Unfetter the reins from my mind,
And let me write through the night
Until my limbs resist, and in tiredness tremble.
Then may I renew the reader’s cheer.

They mock me with a sarcastic cheer.
How could I have thought to prove
myself as anything but an artless tremble?
To soothe my burning flesh, I stand in the rain,
Desiring to be consumed by this dark night
So the haunting guilt can wash from my mind.

I cannot trust the thoughts of my mind.
They give me warmth of shame, not cheer,
Tormenting me even in the anonymity of night.
It took all my arrogance to prove
That I am but a drop of water in the rain--
No more special than a momentary tremble.

In my vainglorious mind I sought to prove
my talent was worthy of cheer and rewards copious as rain.
Instead my pen tarred the night, my words just a fleeting tremble.