Our Pen
With our pen we speak,
Not that our voice is raised to the peak.
The ink outpoured by Pengicians
Appears like rays of stars in the bans of magicians
Who brought the pen to the earth
With which the men have grained and breathe
The lower ones are great at lens
Crawled before but now slate the fence
The cap of knowledge from which intellectuals tap
Flowing endlessly as it crawls around with gap
The papers obey her rule
Heeding to every drop if the blue
I blaze and graze
when I smell the grains it creates
My pen my pen
Oh! I bow in the midst if flames,
I love my pen
I love my pen
In the midst of men,
Oh I raise my pen.
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