Stick to the pen, not to the sword
this is the oath, long ago sworn
by the writers, who became the ignitors
of the free thinkers revolution
Now that I'm a soldier
don't cry on my shoulder
for I know its never right
I'm like you, imprisoned
in this War of Attrition
we are the seekers of the light
Wrongness is winning
in this, the beginning
jaded as it seems
the hope has not faded
for someday we'll make it
grow as a beanstalk from a seed
Yes this tiny hope, forever shall float
the same way it has carried me thus
through the street of desire
fly over the liars
and the evil that swallows them up
I'll stick to the pen, like my old dearest friend
as tyrants cut us down with their blade
I shall get back up, and come back with such
fury as ink fills the page
exposing the lies, I shall have mine
for the pen is almighty, and forever in time
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