A few years ago, I wrote a poem about being an avid reader and have now decided to write one from the writer’s perspective. Why do I write? Read on to know…

The Calling

The words, they beckon from within,
A siren’s song that won’t give in.
They dance and swirl, a restless tide,
Demanding that I be their guide.

This burning need, this endless ache,
To put pen to paper, thoughts to make.
To craft a world, to paint a scene,
To give these voices life, pristine.

For writing is my truest bliss,
My raison d’être, my life’s abyss.
Without this craft, this sacred art,
I’d wither, lost, with a broken heart.

The page, my canvas, waits for me,
Inviting me to set words free.
To weave a tale, to sing a song,
That carries readers along.

So I will heed this inner call,
This driving force is what drives us all.
I’ll write until my dying day,
For writing is the only way.