A truth sayer or a lie teller.
An instrument of just or an instrument with lust.
And it loves to tell the fate.
It wouldn’t mind if it chooses your dismay.
An instrument from history.
An instrument of history.
A tool in the present and one into the mystery.
You have won many defeats.
Most importantly, you led the victories.
It is intriguing how no one pays much attention to your roll in life.
For your intentions are hidden in the ink.
Ink of life and death.
Ink of lies but sometimes, with truth.
You right the scripts of forever.
You signed the wars that should have started; never!
With you, the truce have been signed in the ‘bonds of ever’.
Your intentions are not far from that of the creator.
Neither do you hold a different thought from that of the user.
You may not be fancy but your use can not be under emphasized.
Your strokes; If put into being are facts.
But your facts can hide the truth.
For our world is not a fiction.
Neither would it run on what could be.
You can tell the right from the wrong.
So can you confess the false.
Why you do that lies in the head of you and the holder.
Lives have been bondaged.
Some; set free.
Others hang in the balance.
Truth have been told.
So have lies been said.
Facts have been written.
So has fiction been sent.
Imaginations have been drawn.
Literature has been adorned.
Conflicts have been marked.
Wars have been set off.
So were it truce; signed on.
Intelligence have been documented.
So has stupidity reflected.
And fortunes, mishandled.
Some are fortunate to have you at start.
Others struggle to earn your elite wisdom.
You may not be expensive but your service is at the expense of the world.
Your ink holds the essence of power.
You rule the world in disguise only because you have the power to do so.
Even though your authority comes from above, your intelligence can be greatly argued.
There is a beast in each man.
And you give it a chance to rule when you place in its hold that one great weapon of simplified standards.
That weapon; is the pen