We must die
Yet, for our words won't dry
On the blank sheet's of papers

Endlessly the poesy
Shall remain
Even in the aftermath

From all those poems
Who were given birth from a poet writer
They shall remain

When the poets breathe no more
The poems will breathe
For Eternally ....

Yet, the words will stay and remain the same
But the thoughts
Will speak to those whom read the poet's  poems

So, we shall write till the end
Even if we are reborn
And don't remember who we were in the aftermaths

Therefore our words live on
So, let us the poet's writers give a gift
To the poems

BY:D.E.T

Faith belongs to those who are not blind
To sight the light and darkness
When the light's fade
All you are left is with darkness
Because 'tween the light there was always the darkness

Fragile soul
Fragile

Soft crystal sobs
Soft crystal love

Pure romance
Soft sweet lips
Yet, the savior of the lips
Was bitter

She gave him roses
And as a return she got the thorns
She gave him meat and as a return she got the bones

Standing in a field cover up in white flowers
Gently holding the only red rose

What else can be red?
If she is surrounded by white roses

Looking at all the thorns
She holds them tight
Till the thorns cut her open

The blood is dripping
While she runs around the white field
Abd covers the white roses in red blood

Till she gets pale
For the last time she smiles
And whispers

"Finally the roses are red..."
Then collapses and for the last time she takes a look at the red rose that he gave her