This is Why I Write
In the quiet of the night, with pen in hand,
I shape words into silver threads of thought,
Weaving the tapestry of human emotion,
Breathing life into the vast expanse of imagination.
For in this world of chaos and uncertainty,
Writers and poets stand as beacons of light,
Guiding lost souls through mazes of despair,
Painting hope with the vibrant colors of verse.
We are the custodians of forgotten dreams,
The scribes of history, the poets of love and pain,
We carve our thoughts onto the fabric of time,
Etching our voices onto the hearts of the world.
Why do I write, you may ask?
I write to mend broken spirits,
To ignite fires of passion in cold hearts,
To celebrate the beauty of existence itself.
I write to challenge the status quo, to incite change,
To herald the melodies that dance within my soul,
To unravel the mysteries of the human experience,
And set free the whispering song of my spirit.
For the rhythms of my heartbeat are echoed in my words,
Each syllable a testament to the symphony of life,
A testament to the resilience of the human spirit,
A melody that resonates through the ages.
I write to capture fleeting moments of grace,
To wrap words around the intangible,
To give voice to the silent whispers of the universe,
And to immortalize the essence of being.
So I write, not for fame or fortune,
But to create a legacy woven with the fabric of eternity,
A testament to the resilience of the human spirit,
A melody that resonates through the ages.
For this is why I write,
To breathe life into the silence,
To illuminate the darkest corners of the mind,
And to inspire the world with the power of words.
