She's hidden beneath the pages,

Words, and indentations.

She chooses to be nameless,

Lost in a wond'rous sea.

 

They come from her creation;

The people and their nations

Find joy and their frustrations,

While she makes blind men see.

 

She is master and controller.

Her world knows she is owner.

With no one to control her,

Her spirit now is free.

 

Her pen grows gardens in the page.

They bloom and sing the age,

Then die with war and plague.

She chooses what will be.

 

You may see her if you try;

A glimpse, a moan, a cry,

For in her tales you'll find

She is the pages inside,

But only if you read.