Others have the world
But I have my words
And the words I hurl
Take flight like birds.
They are my armor
And my weapons
In them I harbor
My gifts from heaven.
Words live for eternity
The body is no recompense
Thoughts penned with brevity
May live for ages hence.
I bleed my poor soul
And words gush outside
To be caught on a scroll
Like a newly wedded bride.
They soothe my troubles
Like no salve can
Emerging like fire bubbles
When the old sea began.
I write to my heart's content
For this is a time to write
And so, I vent
My feelings, by day and night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem