In the silent embrace of a moonlit night,
The pen dances, weaving dreams so bright.
Whispered words on paper take their flight,
Crafting worlds from shadows and light.

A symphony of thoughts, both wild and tame,
Ink spills like rain, igniting the flame.
Stories unfold, no two the same,
Each page a testament, a writer’s claim.

Through sorrow and joy, the quill persists,
Breathing life into the ephemeral mist.
With every stroke, reality twists,
Revealing truths that often go missed.

So let the ink flow, unbound and free,
For in its dance, we find our key.
To worlds unknown, to destiny,
A writer’s heart, forever to be.