At a plain desk cocooned in a sun cherished nook

Editing my novel with a hour stolen

Voices inside my head captured between pages

I can’t finish, I’m no writer, I’ll never be good enough

In the citadel of books, all voices are shushed

Cloistered in hardback silence

Cloistered in hardback silence

In the citadel of books, all voices are shushed

I can’t finish, I’m no writer, I’ll never be good enough

Voices inside my head captured between pages

Editing my novel with a hour stolen

At a plain desk cocooned in a sun cherished nook