My Friend

Is this pen my sword,

And the page, my battlefield?

Am I just a soldier,

Marching to the beat

Of his own drum?

Just a pawn to be sacrificed

At the hands of the enemies?

My enemies?                          

Why do I fight?

To tell a story untold                      

Of heroes and villains

Both young and old.

Why do I write?

To free my mind

From the stress of real life

And to get lost

In my own little world.

Why do I write?                         

To release the beast

From the dungeon within

That I like to call

My imagination,

My friend.