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No, the poet is not always the bringer of light! he can also bring darkness, hatred, and pain. he can sing of evil and ugliness. the poet knows how to squeeze out tears and smear blood into your eyes. from his nails, claws can grow and from his teeth, fangs. on his forehead, horns he could place if ever needed. No, the poet is not necessarily dressed in white garments. he can pass through naked and laugh madly in hysterics! and if you strike him, he will not always turn the other cheek. No, the poet is no angel! he is a wound—always bleeding— on the sick heart of the World and the sleepless eye on Its forehead, the unforeseen eye.
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Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 2:53 PM UTC
No! The Poet
No, the poet is not always the bringer of light! he can also bring darkness, hatred, and pain. he can sing of evil and ugliness. the poet knows how to squeeze out tears and smear blood into your eyes. from his nails, claws can grow and from his teeth, fangs. on his forehead, horns he could place if ever needed. No, the poet is not necessarily dressed in white garments. he can pass through naked and laugh madly in hysterics! and if you strike him, he will not always turn the other cheek. No, the poet is no angel! he is a wound—always bleeding— on the sick heart of the World and the sleepless eye on Its forehead, the unforeseen eye.
This poem was originally written in Romanian.
valentin_eni
Written by
46/M/United Kingdom
Nov 15, 2024
Nov 15, 2024 at 2:53 PM UTC
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