I write with quill, nib and inkwell
Not to boast my prowess or akin my talent
To those I doth esteem
I do not attempt to write
So that my sonnets rival Shakespeare’s
Or my odes make war against Shelley’s
I enjoy my solitude, but I do not speak as Miss Dickinson
Do not mistake me for the greats
For they have had their own tale to tell;
Their own morals to build upon
Their own worlds to elaborate and create
But I do write with purpose
Search through all I birth
And you will see the truth I have to give
And it is not boasting to say
That what I say is of the greatest importance
It is the most majestic theme of all manuscripts
No greater tale has been written down on paper
Or more significant a history been recorded
I give you the origin of morality and core of humanity
Listen carefully, yes, listen carefully,
And understand why I write
With quill, nib and inkwell.
It is for, the Lord on High, that I write
With the instruments he has given,
do I write for Him.
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