Many a times it appears as though the pen alone is my companion,
Amid the presence of lack and want, with the pen, am as calm as the new born,
On each page of my heart it is published, I am a survival, though the battle rage,
Indeed, the pen is mightier than many uncaring folks, a close pal,
Do not be shocked by the lack of my fraternal feelings, no one cares,
It is clear my help cometh from above in my strife to win,
I paddle alone on my voyage of success, am a champion,
With the pen in my hands, every cares fleets away like the stars of the morning,
Like a hangout with a true friend, my soul melts of its worries and pains,
Fading away like labour pains at a glance of the new born, with a cry that lightens the soul,
Mothers can tell of the joy they feel, hearing the soothing cry of their new born,
That lovely flawless tune of the baby that sparkles joy around, my heart rejoices,
Though my journey is tough, as on an old rugged hill far away,
My pains is nothing compared, as on a woman in labour,
Many a day appears gloomy and weary, like the man of the old rugged cross,
Along the trail that is winding always upward, swiftly I fly,
To scatter hope and strength to the weak minded souls, am a winner,
Just a passing touch of heavens ray, I can tell of the calmness that beams,
In my strife, I am aided, as one loved by his master, heavens bliss,
From a distance, I can hear a soothing sound so clear and pure, a sound of victory,
In a trans I see the beautiful morrow, so clear as in crystal, a lovely days ahead,
As lovely as it appears, am as happy as though the later is now, my heart sings,
That song of a warrior after the long battle is won, who can tie his mouth?
To scatter a smile and joy abroad, freeing many a soul of it's gloom and fear,
The later is always beautiful than the now, with smiles on my face,
I can speak without stammering, with a clear tune for all to hear,
My trans is real, my days are pure, I am made.

C. Moses Michael N, 2018.