So dear reader you find us, at the bottom of an ink well, or at the tip of a quill.
Still, you read, stubborn your hands, still your quill.
Then a whisp of light, a figure fluttering at night, ah, tis a Cherub you see.
Still, you read, stubborn your hands, still your quill.
What will it take, to awaken your light, cause you with heart to write?
Cherubs will be with you, to guide your hand to write, be you friend, a guiding light.
Still tis you dear friend, who must take you pen and write for Cherubs are only your light, but they can guide you hand in even the darkest night. |