With this pen I carry, I write the worlds of my imagination,
Beautiful songs bestowed by muses and angels of creation.
Each word is an endless tale without saturation,
Forgetting the roles and ideas bound by political correction.
What need is there to shackle my soul and mind,
When they are my most desired and treasured guides?
The world I seek is not one for you to dream,
It’s one for you to live in, to laugh and scream!
I look at the petals of my endless details,
Descriptions of thoughts submerged in pastels,
Like ink on a paper, I let every word flow,
And in a silenced darkness, my creation for you will glow!
[I, the writer], a poem by DragomirCM