To the devil muscle in the mouth; You are not doing good; The thing assigned to you; Trembling in the cochlea of mob; Tending to go on path of lies; I have a better alternative to you; The more audible than you; The super-majestic pen.. .. Pen, you could do it for me, the thing which turn eyes hard as rock; the thing which dries the throat; You could dwell for feelings; Inside the poor,gullible heart; And can encrypt facts from brains. .. You could preserve fossils of all lost memories; Bringing a reluctant smile of remembrance; Let the words erupt from the soul; And appreciate the "Little Great Things"; Of this catastrophic world.