The substance of a poet
the tears they cry
tears from their eyes
in purity and verse

Oh tragic is a poet liken to them
for they mean to die for their art
as many before them tragic
as they cast souls to the four winds

Not for one second do they care
their life is just full of poetry
nothing is life but to die
dying singing to this wondrous art

Sing my friends till the end
make merry and be kind
know that words have dominion
till the end of time


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris