Why would a writer mind,
To unlock And express his mind…
Every smile, his progress a mile,
Or all the nights, he cries and dies
Just the smoke, he sees his victory behind,
Is if what he feels, to the ink can he bind…
And if he can explore the exact universe that he carries within,
The world of hearts, with a pen can he win!
But it costs a brain!
It pays devotion of a pristine heart.
It takes a real writer to print down the exact state of his senses …