Have you ever wonder what your life would be like at the mercy of a writer.If every line,written in ink,by a pen in hand,convey a reality.A moment in time.A past,and adventure.a suddne thought,or a distant memory.What if it was told.the paths walked,or a journey of no end.with the pen With the pen it tales of emotions,hidden,like a trophy,in a closet.As the words written,scenes flickers,and the walls comes tumbling down,just for an instinct,a matter of time sparkled.Have you ever wonder what is in a writer's mind,a gift to speak words from tonque to pen.It is a share content of jumbled words,something only visible to the hand,that moves,along the pages of time.A steady flow of words.A mixture of humanity.Some real,some i a fantasy world,still,coming from the writers soul.If your tale became a vision of reality,and many came across it would you dare,feel the emotion,of the writer,or laugh at is outcries.
