•Wabi Sabi•

•Pen•

He picked up his pen,

And started to write,

The story of an oppressor,

And a rebel who'd fight.

  

Why he chose this plot,

He himself didn't know,

Maybe it was that anger,

In his heart which had started to grow.

The anger for those people,

Who have lost their will to fight,

The anger for those people,

Who never desired to make things right.

They complained what was wrong,

Said how they were treated bad,

But never once they opposed,

And that's what made him mad.

But who was he to complain,

He too was a part of them,

Riding on this wave,

He too was afraid like them.

Afraid to speak up,

That no one would hear his voice,

Afraid to show his thoughts,

That they would curb them like a mice.

That's when he picked up his pen,

Started to write down his thoughts,

The one's he had kept locked,

In his mind's safe box.

But now he was ready,

Ready to show them to the world,

To show them he was strong,

And no longer a crippled.

So, he picked up his pen,

And sat down to write,

The story of an oppressor,

And a rebel who'd fight

***

A pen is mightier than the sword.

If wielded in the right hands, it can create those wonderful worlds,

 But if held in the wrong hands, it can destroy the thriving world.

That's why, there is immense responsibility on a writer.

cchinu

Presentation Credit: amy_theQueen