My pen is my transport,
My paper, my portal.
The moment they touch,
I end up somewhere else:
The late victorian age with
a story of tragic romance,
a mystical realm
with the most fantastical lore.
Perhaps the roaring twenties,
Or the age of rebirth,
Maybe classical Greece,
Or somewhere else—
It doesn't even have to exist!
I could do whatever
My heart desires
With just paper and a pen,
And some inspiration in mind...
I find true solace when I write.