**The Art of Words**

A blank page waits, still and pure,

My pen hesitates, then makes its mark,

A journey ignites from a single spark.

Ink dances, glides with grace,

Capturing thoughts in a fleeting embrace.

Ideas spill, like a river's course,

A quiet surge, a steady force.

In each line, a truth unfurls,

Hidden worlds and secret pearls.

Words become the voice I seek,

Bringing strength where I felt weak.

With each stroke, the weight grows light,

My soul takes flight, into the night.

The page now full, my heart laid bare,

A part of me now lingers there.