Never cut the airy wings,
Of Poet's imagination,
They can really, highly fly,
Encompassing so many things,
That can lead to our salvation.
salvation comes in many forms. Saving a weary mind with poetry is one
yeah, the lost art of daydreaming, the beginning of all fantastic creations as a kid, if I wasn't lighting things on fire, I was daydreaming...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wholeheartedly agree with you Sandra! Nice poem.