Dedication

It's night, I'm nigh asleep, but waking,
Wanting to be worthy of the wealth I have been given,
Wanting to make magic, to make marvels, to make glory
For those who chose my muses to awaken.

I read a thousand authors' writings -
Letters, journals, novels, stories, fables, vignettes, papers;
Letters, words, and sentences, and paragraphs, and passages -
I find them fine, impassioned writers...

...but I am not. I write frustrated.
Language is a needed thing to value and protect,
Language - I have stolen it, to value and protect
And made poor recompense in writing text.

But I will strive to make that recompense
For all the wondrous writing I've been sent.