Poems are buckets of words poured on unresponsive sheets of paper
The melting ink inside the mind of a poet
The provoked mind spitting out a mystic array of gems
The trembling pen shaves the ghostly shadows of words left behind by the careless poet
Poems are stories of love, tales of heroic deeds left behind by the fleeing shadows. Ghostly figures emancipated by their experience in the war zone. Poems are chains linking the dreamer to his dreamless journey
Poems are tears of slaves, the silent screams of dying soldiers on the battlefield, the bleeding heart of a broken spirit.
Poems are the pleasant morning sunshine, the leathery feel of a rose, the sensual ejaculation of the human spirit.
Poems are a celebration of art, a portrait of the deepest end of the human soul.
Poems are...
Wonderful poem composed about poem and shared wisely.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
INdeed! a very nice write