Pen, My Love! Poem by Sai Supreeth Y K

Who found this wonderful instrument?
Which can fulfil my temperament,
My feelings high as the sky,
It can record just in a try.

Forgotten are many memories,
As time crosses by centuries.
Provided the pen is there,
Preserved are the memories rare!

What it can do is not mere writing,
It even helps in knowledge sharing,
It can also stop fights at the chord,
Because a pen is mightier than a sword.

At times I forget to reach my fork,
Because this pen is my only walk,
This is the thing that helps me talk,
When I'm reminded of the lovely lark.

Literature depends on it,
For which it is always fit.
In this moment I take this vow,
That this pen, shall be my love.