Writing's magical power

I sit in the silence of the moonless night

Waiting for inspiration to strike

To come forth like a powerful fountain

Of life-saving words to my parched brain

When a well of endless ink from the mind overflowed

The writing spreading like black, liquid gold

As the immaculate parchment finally birthed stories

And I pray that my craft becomes more honed

And my feather pen becomes sharper than a sword

May the words be like a tireless armor of ideas

Giving strength to the bruised, stained fingers

May they be the soul’s blooming flowers

As soothing as the rain in the scorching desert

And warm like the fire in the glacial iceberg

May they have the mist’s mystery

May they possess the fairies’ sanctity

As they spin immortal stories of love and fidelity

Of courage and sacrifice and morality

To bring hope for generations to come

In a world that seems void of magic and wonder

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Thank you for reading!

Bahora Saitova