Words

I don't go to find them
They are coming themselves
Forcing me to increase walking pace
To reach to the finish
To storm to the end
And pour them all out
With an empty hand

A few common errors
Or mishaps of terms
Still they keep on coming
And writing themselves
My only choice here
Remains to be near
To give them a life
In this known sphere

And so I am clear
My role has been given
May syllables steer
This way and through the years