This crazy thing we call life

     is no more than a book; a novel.

We are the dreamers

     and we hold the pen.

We produce the ink that strings

     the words across the page.

We guide the wrist, the fingers, and the spirit within.

     We map out the plot-lines that determine our fate.

We kindle the embers of desire

     'til they burst into flame.

We shape the dialogue that moves us along.

     We punctuate our sentences as the light goes out.

This story is ours to tell with the correctly

    chosen words. We hold the key to what's being 



The End

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