The Eyes Of Critics
A true legend is a target to seasonal blame and disgrace,
Who suffered hold on crevices, meteor on earth.
Fame is like a knotted garment though,
In flimsy words I'll manage to lose the knot
Through the pen that pours ink on this leaf
And to bring you beneath the classics's horizon.
Surely, tongues will unperched to steal for fame.
Though I'm not a nihilist, nor a reformer of ink and leaves