We were poets once, when the world chose to listen to our voices and the heavens parted ways with the wind.
From every ink blotched penned stroke accompanied almost always with a melody from angelic hearts.
No gods among men or empress of women but children of a calling.musician or poet we had neither name. Nor theory of motion upon what we could dream.
From Mozart to Keats, our work was not undone. We cared not for the frailty of human emotion but of the captivated beauty we captured from our souls, which we kept in our hearts.
Poetry isn't just a mere manuscript of untold fables, when spoken in one word; it moves the skies and parts the seas.
We are one voice, through ageless echoes and timeless thoughts; so depart from your dull aware world to a place of creative theory. Step into our souls and encounter with us, the hidden treasures which lurk behind the pages of our reality.
We await your imagination with great anticipation.
We are one voice, open your mind. Listen and you will hear us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem