In the halls of my mind, I see.

I see vibrant vistas, colorful characters, and wonderful worlds,

I see violent villains, ferocious fights, and saddening struggles. 

I hold dearly the inventions of a wandering imagination,

And, like all things I cherish, I crave nothing more than to share these with the world.

I can only hope that they can be seen as I see them.

I can only hope one day they can be held and loved by another.

Through the end of a pen, my dreams and nightmares flow in cascades,

Every letter, every word beloved and hand-picked from the orchard of my mind. 

I have tales to share and adventures to weave,

I have tragedies to mourn and romances to nurture. 

An author, the patient and crazed storyteller, stuck in his fantasies,

Lost in conflicts and journies in the halls of his mind. 

This is the career for me, thelivelihood for me.