We chase wild dreams at the tip of our pens,
every word every stroke brings us closer.
But at times, our draft—it just doesn’t make sense…
We can’t help but believe us a poser.
Still, the dream, the pen, calls out to our hearts—
and we try, put it back to the paper.
Every word, every stroke is a wonder!
As our instincts kick in – full of hunger,
we’re hunters that chase, hunt down our prey!
We won’t let our doubts win, lead us astray—
we will howl for our pack, our dearest friends.
Dreams are waiting at the tip of our pens.