My quill
Dances with brill
And kisses the plain paper,
With black ink of captivating words,
Flowing on it like a river.

My quill
An embodiment of hope,
Speaks for the voiceless
With soothing words,
That placate their hearts.

My quill
A solace for my pain,
Spill my thoughts on paper.

My quill
Veracious and daring.
Shoots piercing words,
In the face of the treacherous
Like a soldier in a battlefield.

My quill
Unfolds the deception of many
And leaves permanent scars,
On their hearts.

The truth;
Is a sweet thing to hear,
Unless they are scared
And can't bear.

My quill
An enigma,
Dances to the rhythm of my muse,
And bows not to rejection.