Quill on a ragged paper what's your will,
Past ones waging wars and famines raging to kill,
In time's ensemble all actors paid on an interim, yet I think,
Immortal seem the words of a quill soaked in ink...
.
Quill on a ragged paper who's your kin,
Thirst for wisdom or shattering mind's margin,
Sorrows bought to light or corrupting brains as a blight,
All done by the stroke of a lone quill...
.
Quill on a ragged paper to whom do you yield,
To a hand uncertain in time or the conscious to perceive,
The wavering hand prides upon it's skill,
Fails to see itself, time and history all weaved by a single quill...
.
Quill on a ragged paper who hphilolds your voice,
Spirit of emancipation or a free mind's demise,
Perishes all that fate desires to fulfill,
Sans the world, remain the ragged paper and a quill....

.
.