I
am just letters, alphabets. But is that all I am? Is it really all that
I am?

I've been used to blossom flowers and array them with colours, to
admire beauty,as a  river to wash away sorrows as hope for a brighter tomorrow.

I'm in a web of scandals used  as a weapon for the bottom feeders, changing the views of mankind, giving birth to leaders.

I've felt the gentle hand of a lover, the pain of a broken heart,the tears of despaired minds, the fears of victimized villians burdened with pride.

The path to freedom is my illusion
As the light at the end of one tunnel is a light to another tunnel.

I've witness horrors in places that were hollow
I'm forever in an abyss of blissful sorrows .

Centuries after centuries I've been a mirror for reflecting notions and emotions,I confess
I am a donkey exhausted but allowed no rest.

I await the day when the last man  lays down his pen and
welcomes the grim reaper as an old friend, I too would be able to finally rest