Every writer is a magician,
embedded their magic among their lines.
So rise my words, rise.
Come and mend your master's broken heart.
Love is but a big treachery,
that bring nothing but miseries!
So dance my little pen, dance.
Dance out our finest lines.
Write me love that belongs to me,
go against the wicked destiny, the fated love
Write my hand, write.
For every words are blessed,
For my very own, love.