A Palimpsest of Memory and Fate : The Symphony of Words and Sound

For a writer, paper can be a mirror,
Reflecting back the image of the soul,
A canvas for the artist to explore,
A medium for the mind to weave its role.
In every stroke of pen or quill or key,
A world of thought and feeling can be set free.

The blankness of the page, a stark tableau,
Inviting words to dance and thoughts to flow,
The ink that spills like blood from vein to screen,
A window to the heart, a soul unseen.
In every scrawl and scribble, there’s a clue,
To secrets hidden deep within the hue.

A canvas for the writer to create,
A palimpsest of memory and fate,
A mirror to reflect the joys and pains,
The loves and losses, the losses and gains.
In every stroke of pen or quill or key,
A world of thought and feeling can be set free.

The writer’s voice, a symphony of sound,
A symphony of words, profound and round,
A melody that echoes through the heart,
A harmony that weaves its endless art.
In every syllable, a story told,
In every tale, a life to unfold.

The paper, then, becomes a living thing,
A portal to the past, the future, winged,
A journey through the depths of time and space,
A glimpse into the soul, a sacred place.
In every stroke of pen or quill or key,
A world of thought and feeling can be set free.

So let the writer wield the pen with care,
And let the paper be a mirror fair,
Reflecting back the beauty of the mind,
The magic of the word, the poet’s kind.
For in the end, it’s not the ink that’s true,
It’s what the writer feels, creates anew.

The blank page is a challenge and a gift,
A place where inspiration starts to lift,
Where dreams and thoughts can turn into a tale,
And the writer's soul can fully unveil.
The paper is a canvas to create,
A mirror to the mind, a soulmate.

The writer's pen can shape a world of sound,
And every word can add to the profound,
A symphony of language, deep and true,
Where every line creates a new milieu.
The ink that flows can bring to life a dream,
A work of art, a vision, it may seem.

The writer's role is that of a creator,
A weaver of worlds and an innovator,
A mind that never ceases to explore,
And a heart that longs to open every door.
The paper is a tool that they can use,
To paint a picture, a life, and fuse.

The writer's journey is not always clear,
But they continue, without any fear,
Exploring every thought and every voice,
To bring forth something new and to rejoice.
For in the end, it's not the pen or ink,
It's the writer's passion that makes us think.

So let the paper be a mirror true,
To reflect the soul and the writer's view,
And let the words flow freely from the heart,
For it is through them that we find our art.
For a writer, paper is a mirror bright,
A world of thought, a universe of light.

And in this universe, the writer finds,
A world of wonder, where the soul unwinds,
A place where dreams and thoughts can come alive,
And stories can be told, that will survive.
With every stroke of pen or quill or key,
The writer's heart can soar, and they are free.

Free to explore the depths of their own mind,
And bring forth beauty that they hope to find,
Free to create a world that is their own,
And to express their soul in every tone.
For on the page, the writer's voice is heard,
Their truth and wisdom shared, in every word.

And as they write, the paper becomes more,
Than just a mirror, but a wide-open door,
To new possibilities, and to dreams,
To worlds and stories that are yet unseen.
And as they write, they weave a tapestry,
Of thoughts and feelings, and creativity.

For a writer, paper is a sacred space,
A world of wonder, a creative place,
Where their imagination can run wild,
And every thought can be completely styled.
So let the words flow freely from the heart,
For in them, we find the writer's art.

And in this art, we find a deeper truth,
A glimpse into the writer's soul, uncouth,
A reflection of the world that they perceive,
And the emotions that they cannot leave.
For every word they write, a story told,
A world created, a memory, bold.

The writer's pen, a magic wand in hand,
To weave a story, to build a land,
To take us on a journey far and wide,
And show us things that we cannot abide.
In every stroke of pen or quill or key,
We find a world that's waiting to be free.

And as we read, we're lost in the delight,
Of the writer's words, that take us to new heights,
A world of wonder, where the mind is free,
To explore the beauty that we cannot see.
For a writer, paper is a sacred tome,
A canvas for the mind to freely roam.

So let the writer write, and let them dream,
For in their words, we find a gentle stream,
A world of beauty, that we can explore,
A place where the soul can truly soar.
For in the end, it's not the words we read,
But the writer's heart, that we need to heed.






The poem is part of a full version found in the book "Homo Sapiens" Part XVI, written by Mawphniang Napoleon. This book is part of the popular "Homo Sapiens" book series, which can be purchased online at various online bookstores, such as Amazon. The book is available for purchase for those who are interested in reading the complete version of the poem. Remember to get all the books from the "Homo Sapiens" series, as well as other books by the same author.

So, don't hesitate and get a copy today from one of the many online bookstores.

Khublei Shihajar Nguh,
Dhanewad
Thank you