The pens the portal, creating,

The paper’s the window, revealing,

Tales of horror, fantasy,

Floating around the obis of my imagination,

I pull them together, and they flow,

Through the nib, through the nib,

Spiraling onto the paper, perfectly permanent.

After intense investigation,

I bring insight, my ink and I,

After riveting research,

I bring reality, my pen and I,

After delightful daydreaming,

I bring life, my paper and I,

Shape characters, dictate lives.

People ask why I like writing, 

I reply, why I don’t,

I relish the control, power,

Power to uncover lies,

Power to evoke tears,

Love having a world at my fingertips,

Love that smile words can bring,

So I’m simply blessed I can do such a thing.