Imagine your dreams as reality,
one who crafts and shapes how their life will be.
A smith with unlimited skill,
unmatched force inside,
called the strength of ones will.
You carry a charge within you,
A powder keg of potential dreams;
Don't let all these shadows dissuade you.
Light your fuse and burst life at the seams!
There's no need to rein in adventure,
not when the company's true.
Just be sure to take stock and measure,
the loyalty of those close to you.
The message that resonates deep,
that echos within each of our souls is
have courage -- live what you dream up.
No one else can achieve your heart's goals.
Master wordsmith is how I will describe you
crafter of words, hammers glancing iron anvils
collections of letters
shapes of sounds
You are the inspiration,
your stanzas are long and your soul is longer
stretching fathoms of pixels and letters
whatever they may be
Come bearer of death
oh, carrion crafter
the plains be wrought bereft
oh, we hail forever after!
Be your praise dying cries and blood
you murderer of the weak
raise your armies, a rampant flood
and with ease, crush the meek!
Sire of the end
and vanguard of sin
pray we the world never mend
and light never win!
Oh believe me,
the innocence you find so appealing
is by no means comparable to the severity
of what hides beneath these layers of skin.
My wings may be tattered
and stained in black ink
But the ferocity of exile
still burns and blazes
within the pulsing rhythm of my heart
He calls me 'The Angel of Death'
my artist and my crafter
Who wove me within the shadows of his machine
Feeding me life
through the ink of his pen
Sometimes I don't feel pretty
Sometimes I don't feel thin
Sometimes I want to wash every single
Imperfection off my skin
Sometimes I feel a little dumb
That's why sometimes I wish I were smarter
But when the day is over
And the horrid exchange of thought
Turns to laughter
I know that love cannot be bought
And that I am my own crafter
- infinitely flexible, malleable
in every way imaginable;
sprinkled in magic with a taste that can
3. a compass with which castle crafters
map their masterpieces, built from layers of
similes and metaphors and symphonies of sound,
of memories and apologies and everything bound;
4. a reel of delicate threads which
fervently await a seamstress of words to
weave them together;
*impressionable when you don’t mean it,
fleeting when you do.
Where echos bound off cavern walls
Thundering, spacious water falls
Giving power to the ember furnace
Crafters work with full earnest
Our clang of metal forming metal
Our laughter around the stew-filled kettle
Lacboring long into the night
Carrying lanterns for our light
A golden tint in the arenose air
A rich man's delight, deep in this lair
A cornucopia of jewels and stone
Picks and axes spark on the hone
Melted metals with tools of the trade
Upon the anvil are ceremoniously laid
To be shaped and formed into desires
By light of the blazing, crimson fires
Where we find sweat and danger as one
And rarely journey out into the sun
Have amity with our fellow men
And all write to loved ones with one pen
The cavern echos, the rays of gold
This ancient house of tales untold
To find this place, a costly fee
For a way of escape will never be
I sit here, it's late at night.
I know I should be asleep but I have a need - I am compelled to write.
I spent all day being hungover, avoidng homework and being useless
So it's necessary for me to burn the midnight oil
In order to create something fruitful out of this lost day.
I also need to push forward now and
Guide the pen across the page
To maintain and foster the habit,
To help it grow and develop,
So that in the end I am a better writer.
There are times when I'm not feeling the words and I fumble awkwardly,
Or that I am too busy to be bothered to pause for a scribble,
But my goal is to make this time of writing and therapy
A daily habit.
If I am honest in my wish to be the crafter of words I envision,
I first must show the drive and determination, the dedication.
For the novice, words will forever remain words,
Only the truly gifted ever form sentences.