In writing, I find a secret door,
Where thoughts can dance and ideas soar,
A place where silence speaks in rhyme,
And words transform both space and time.
It’s the freedom of a blank, white page,
A stage where every dream can wage,
A battle for a voice, a place,
To weave a world, to craft a space.
I love the way the pen can glide,
Tracing paths where my truths reside,
In every twist, in every turn,
New fires of imagination burn.
The joy is in the endless play,
Where shadows stretch and colors stay,
Where I can shape the night or day,
And mold the world in my own way.
Each sentence is a brushstroke bold,
A story waiting to be told,
In writing, I become the guide,
To worlds that in my heart reside.
Lyrics, Sentiments and Me 