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A Writer's Last Wish
Can you feel the reality set in,
As I the grasp the handle of my weapon, it slowly transforms into a pen,
Opening a world that I can create with no sin.
From the layers of this den,
I found myself in the dark…
Surrounded by this shimmering light,
Allowing my eyes to see a world that only I can touch with my soul.
A world so seamlessly endless,
And yet somehow it seems senseless…
Alone in this chamber…friendless,
Prayers that tomorrow will come and show the best part of me.
Breaking these chains that hold us down.
Confined to the insanity of this ink…
But in a blink, it always takes us there to see.
Visions of war,
Visions of love…
Hopelessly lost imprisoned by these words that won’t set us free.
These letters that form these sentences that shape us,
Mold us, to what I…what we must become.
Haikus written on the wall…
Left for the centuries to come…
Hoping that each embellished superlative will reach them all…before I go.
Reach just one, that’s all I really want.
A pair of eyes to read my world.
And show them all what it is to live within.
To feel the sorrow of a letter written in dying moments of love.
To show world the passion of what this ink possesses.
Of what a skilled writer expresses,
The laughter,
The pain…
The emotion of what a writer confesses.
No second guesses…
This pen,
This paper…
Write diligently and write what it inscribes…
So the world may see what you….I…us….Professes
Teach the world your path,
Your lessons.
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