You call to me today, the urge to flip through your glimmering pages
rides me to set aside all things and hold my hand held high,
hovering above glistening blank pages, hungry for the ink to soak it's
body
coating it in words and meanings, dreams and asperations

what will I write today? you wonder, as I hold my pen held high
twisting and turning it within my fingers, lips pursed together in
thought
slowly you anxiously wait until at long last the first drop splatters
the empty surface covered in the first letter, then the first word

like a song the sound of the pen across your surface rings through the
night
sorrow of the past, thoughts on the future and the expresions of the
soul
you hold it all within your debths as I add yet one more dream, one more
thing
to hold within the confines of your leather bound body.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Haernos, in the year 242 MA.