There is beauty
in these depths.

But you’d have
to drown
to see it.

Poets write poetry sharing
wisdom of roads not taken
their gray brain sprouts multicolored flowers
of visions seeking love
splattered by remnants
of great lovers past
ankored daggers
in heart
Lovers paint their own ark
A poets spinning top is art
lasting longer as it may
their name De Plume
may dictate ageless
candor
but their tops spinning
out off ballance
topples and falls;

Poets and lovers notice
people aren't tops,
karma cause and effect
Action innaction
dictates
the inevitability of
their top's last spin,

Even of poetry
What may last forever?
new poets are birthed 
like seasons do
returning thus
the spinning top
  of poets and lover's vise.
~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All Rights.