A Pen That Works Hard Poem by Joshua Bantum

Scrolls,
That preserve timeless knowledge into pulp,
Let me call upon your strength,
Focus your ancient rituals,
In the running of my pen’s length.

I’ve gone through a many tool,
Transferring emotion into ink,
And with these proper utensils in hand
There’s no bridge that we cannot link.

Unforcefully,
With this pens help,
These words take a swiftful leap,
And like a women bathing in the sun, her ecstasy gathering heat,
My words soak into this paper,
Now expressing beauties mystique.

I find your use’s endless,
Like water drawn from the earth,
When you`re pure in essence,
There’s no limits to what you can birth.

We’ll graze the fields of bone ash,
Together when our harvest arrives,
The hue flaking from out our skin,
Our soul rooting back to the skies.

And in the very end,
When every analogy has been said,
Our footsteps will collect the dust,
And the dust,
lastly,
Will silently collect us.