Give me a pen and paper

And words speak without moving its lips

pulls the string in hearts without lifting a finger

smears pedigrees over history

like blood-painting by ambitious street fighters

And words find its ways into the pores

dances to the tunes of jilt and love

a feeling of a freelance arbitrator

susceptible to nothing, not even a war

And words wink to hypocrites in temples

throws light onto the faces of saints in the dark

“I am a splash of poo from an aged turtle”

Sometimes he yells from the side

And words sing as he wobbles through space and time

I want to change the world, give me a pen and paper