I am Ink sweet blood of the pen. I **** the flesh of parchment with savvy strokes of timeless musings. The poet is nothing without my inspiration to spur him forward forcing thought from mind into visual conceptions of reality. The written word is law and I am law We are one. The ink ,not the pen, is mightier than the sword. What is the pen without me? The ink. A wasted corpse space used on a desk worthless to be without ink. I alone am the soul of literature. I alone raise words from the dead minds of deceased philosophers. My word has capsized continents waged unwinnable wars I do not discriminate I have killed men women children. I have breathed life into centuries. I am eternity I am ink.