Sovereign of the written word,
tell the world what you have heard.
Let it fill you with joy, should they break a smile,
your work's worth such and more all the while.

Master of the granite tongue,
tell the world what tales you've spun.
Illustrate your vision on oaken paper,
create for us all, your every caper.

Spin a web of word and power,
remedy the bored in their direst hour.
Infect the land with that which you've done,
o master of the fluent tongue.

T'will always be the one who listens,
ever-recording, yet nary a prided glisten.
He shall tell the world what's become of your tears,
what mastery's shown by the birch's ears.
-
T'my best buddy, in word and in text. Cheers.

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Chakros, in the year 130 MA.