A Writer’s Sorrow – The Pen

by Jun 10, 2003Stories

I wish to write things of splendor and beauty,
To write delicate and intricate sentences.
Oh, I shall never be like you, Tolkien,
Your very words on the paper lift my soul in joy and love by the majesty displayed.

It is a feeling too great to describe,
To be able to write such beauties,
To be original and think of things unthought of before.
I shall never write such pure and deep understandings,
Ideas that are wholesome and sweet and full of caring.
To form words in pleasurable fashions that flow too fair to imagine.

Like flowers, the stories open their blooms to show the world their incredible beauty.
Like a dancer, she shows the world her style and grace.
This is how Tolkien’s pen is.
And that is how I wish mine were to be.

To uplift a heart and touch it, to leave a piece of your soul on a parchment to be read with hopes of it not being torn up. To change a person’s mind. To be someone you are not, to live a life you consider worth living for. To escape.

Mighty is the pen, it holds much power and many desire the gift of controlling it. In a way it represents the One Ring.

I desire that ring more than silver and gold, even though I may never recieve it. I, like Boromir, want it at first as perhaps a way to help others. This is a lie, I want it to bring human glory unto myself.

What is human glory? Just the mere acceptance of a few indecisive human beings.Yet at the same time it is the most sought after prize in our world. It is a desire that is often twisted and mangled, and truly and purely understood by few. Human glory has been turned and used for evil… Maybe it was evil all along.

In the Lord of the Rings, the ring is a symbol of power and domination. My pen, representing my desire to write, is more or less a cry for attention I want from others. I both love and hate the pen; I love to write, but I hate writing nothing of worth.

There are several Lords of the Pen. I, not being one of them, follow these Lords as a type of Gollum. Not literally, but by rather reading these books and stories the Lords write. I shall say no more, for fear of becoming a Gollum, and only obtaining my desire before my death. Or becoming a Boromir, and never recieving the prize of my heart at all. If only, if only.


Submit a Comment

Found in Home 5 Reading Room 5 Stories 5 A Writer’s Sorrow – The Pen

You may also like…

The Missing Link Chapter 3: Captive

We return to the forests again. Our hobbit friend has lost all faith and finds the true meaning of apathy by the end of this chapter. He is taken captive by a band of elves and one human. This chapter suggests that some of his past will be revealed soon.

read more

The Missing Link Chapter 2: Ivy

We leave the fields and forsets and earth whatsoever to the sea, where a broken abused halfling sails. We hear a little about her past from her recalled memories that she remembers during her turn at lookout. Please comment again, and if you find ANY FAULT AT ALL please tell me. Thank you! 🙂

read more