Son,
I write to chart a map,
For myself, and for the travelers who follow.
I map the stars that burn within,
The galaxies buried beneath heavy hearts.
Each word leaves a mark;
Each sentence draws a line,
Crossing borders as each block opens a new galaxy,
Plotting the course between the mind and the soul.
I do not merely write; I navigate.
I chart the depths to understand,
To believe, and finally to behave.
I am a guide for those who seek to feel,
Helping them decode the language of their intent
Before they commit the actions of regret.
I sharpen my emotions into a compass,
And engraving my thoughts into an astrolabe,
Seeking the truth of myself,
And the truth of others.