My eyes burn from overuse,
swollen and bloodshot.
My head throbs with tension,
pain seizes through me.
My fingers are red from clutching furiously at my pen,
calluses forming with each stroke.
My notes seem blurry, unreadable.
The thought of stopping for the night flashes in my mind.
Something drives me to keep going.
The clock chimes denoting the end of another hour.
My eyes are now tearing intensely,
as if begging me to take a break.
Finally, I close the book with great passion.
Suddenly, overcome by relief,
my eyes no longer weep.
Until tomorrow, I say,
rest my weary eyes,
we will start again.