A World of Words

The smell of ink is everywhere

The ache in my fingers burns passionately

My grip on my pen loosens

I force the grip tighter.

With sweat, the pages pass.

Page after page is scripted:

Letter by letter, word by word

Paragraph by paragraph

Page by page.  A new world 

Is created with painstaking care.

The characters they talk to me.

They keep me company 

In the hours of loneliness I write.

He speaks to me as I transcribe.

The manuscript grows page by page.

In silence and in bliss the pages fill.

In hours and days the pages fill.

People laugh and people cry, 

They sob until the day is done.

This is why I write.  For me alone.

The words I script are for me;

They are my mind, my sanity of heart.

Words create escape.  They are release

From the terror of the world.

Words are pieces, sentences of life.