The Words You Write

Your words show me the way In the blind alleys of despair When I'm stumbling against closed doors Straying hither and thither in a rootless, paper-thin state Your words flash before me Like a light expanding and spreading Beyond the cage of human needs Diffusing the darkness of desolate forests Where I'm losing my way again and again Why do I need your words So desperately As if they are a life-giving potion However bitter, and full of venom They are my panacea For they come from your pen And the fountain of your soul If it so happened That you ceased to write From whence would I get the light The fire to warm my ice-cold soul?