You ask me for a story
And I find myself at a loss.
How can I clearly portray to you what I envision?
These pictures in my mind are not so easy to share.
I cannot draw them for you in any way besides with words,
Though my descriptions seem inadequate.
And I know that you shall imagine them differently that I describe.
But I know of no other way.
You may mock me
Or you may read it with wonder
But I still feel as if something is lost between what I picture
And what is written.
For how can I accurately convey
That which cannot be described?
How can I show you the true depth of emotion
Or the grandeur of the mountains painted in the light of the setting sun?
For I never imagine something on a small scale.
Why should I?
In my mind I am my own master
And there are no limits to what I can create.
Shall I bare my soul for you?
Shall I reveal all that I imagine
And everything that I keep hidden in the deepest crevices of my mind?
For that is what you ask of me.
I know not how to write without imbuing my soul into what I create.
So read on, gaze at what I have created
See with not only your eyes, but also your mind,
The tale that is laid before you
And remember that it is permeated with all that I am.