Photo by David Boca on Unsplash
All this tenderness feels somewhere close to relentless. Lending me a scroll, is just like giving me a take on the thrown, A ride with the king? Maybe something of the sort
How I love my writing den!! One place where all thy dreams are stitched as a whole.
Even when am low, these pages get me flyin’. Nothing like deserted, they are always there to parent those sorrowful words.
Just don’t touch my inkpot, leave us in peace. With it, all my dreams are intact as if all cased in a shell.
By the time I will be 25, I will have already written my way to freedom.
Like
Share
About the Creator
Fred Musoke
I want to give my writing a fragrance. I mean, that redolence which won’t only outlast my generation, but will also nudge the souls on Mars.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.