Since the blushing of the sun at dawn,
And the phrases of a godly saint,
One poet needs a holy war with words
So that fighters frighten one another
In the unity and absolute nature of humankind.
The mission is of the prophetic helpers,
Superior to just learning,
Superior to wealth and riches,
Goal of the night, and defence
From the open enemy, a devil
Of some wrong committed in the past.
Monday, March 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: pen