Mystery veils the way,
To very deep inner feelings,
Inexplicably, at times,
Clarity does not hit the ceiling,
Mystery does surround,
The inspired word,
That chimes,
In wonder, so sublime,
As the spirit climbs,
Emotionally divine,
Words conjugate thoughts,
That cannot be forced,
Or bought,
The very spirit of the poet,
Is caught,
In a Web of Humanity,
That sometimes even,
Goes beyond thought.
No, Poetry is not easy,
And still remains,
The Great Mystery,
Of our Soul,
If not, the greatest,
Mystery of All.

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