A poet’s soul’s a burning flame;
It doesn’t search for money, fame,
In its quest to pure understanding
Distorts the world for an amending.
A poet’s soul falls in love
With an idea from above,
It sees perfection in a flower
Weighting seconds in an hour.
A poet’s soul looks at you
An image it creates anew -
Words fluid in the making
For reality somehow mistaken.
A poet’s soul will melt in stars,
Will find its rest into the fars -
Too far from you, a muse of his,
Without you life’s an abyss!
A poet’s soul is not enough
To light a candle in this rough
World full of vague illusions,
Enslaved by distorted visions.
A poet’s soul will live in readers’ eyes -
A glimpse of thoughts’ paradise
Will shine somehow into the minds
Of souls akin with their finds.
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