The Master Of Words
What is a writer, you ask? A writer is a million universes disguised as one soul, A tireless river of emotions trapped within one body, A mirage of contentment, a facade of peace A writer is a world within a world. What is a writer made of, you ask? He is made up of all the elements, Each one in opposition of the other, There is no balance, equilibrium doesn't exist. He rages, like undying fire, He flows, like the fierce river He wanders, like aimless wind He is as endless as the unending void He is as composite as mother earth herself. What does a writer do, you ask? He brings to life the world of the unknown, He conjures new worlds from thin air, He dusts the wry corners of our squalid minds, He awakens our entranced conscience. Dangerous is the one who masters his ink, For he has both; the power to create, And the efficacy to destroy With one stroke.