The power of the pen

It is true!  Evolution happens in the confessions of self-awareness.  The digging of earth lays bare the good, the bad, the weed and flower.  Man is birthed sweet and bitter.  Carved from stone and softened like mud.

Is self-deprecation, rabid mental pondering the fruit of wicked musings?  Has the pen become venom and thorns in our side?

Do diverge.   Speak.  Roads curve for reason, to be sure we stay true to nature.  One must not quiver from the knowing, courageously look the devil in the eye.  

The horizon births light.  At journey’s end return to the shadow-less road, strong and with great reward.  Never allow the ink well to go dry!

Musings

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