Ballad Of A Poet Poem by Brian Mawadri

Every word written digs through hearts;
As melodies of an Adele song.
In the lonely quiet, rhymes of brilliance are born:
Like the preserved manuscripts of Hemmingway.
For they are art for the soul, to devour;
The empty note book is a battlefield!
In which a wordsmith heralds his freedom.

The verses flow pure and hearty;
As a stream.
And they cleanse the deranged thoughts,
Of those daunty and suicidal:
Like therapy!
The pencil is a sword in this realm.
Which gives thoughts life line;
And inks history for the unborn generations.
To consume;
I write my name into history:
Like the dead performers.
Whose echoes are anthems to the global populace.

The path I trounce, is silent;
As a cemetery!
My thoughts collide and wonder.
As the ray of light.
I write about passion.
But romance eludes me:
I am singing.
I am dancing.
To the ballads of a poet.