A Writer's Release

This pen has lain still for quite some time
Hesitantly, my fingers pick it up, feeling guilty of a crime
My heart and soul beg for release,
Scream, take the paper, grab the pen, SEIZE!
The pen flows with such rhythm and a dancers grace
And my mind just sits in such a daze
I will not think about my theft
Until the ink runs out and there is nothing left
No more prayers, no more amen
And now all that’s left is the empty pen.