Is a wonderful thing!
The spirit of creation
In us sparks,
And makes us
Live and speak,
A world without art
Would be inhuman
So impoverished,
Less smart,
Like birds without songs
We’d wither along
Artistic creation,
Is our cultivated Rose,
Our salvation,
Beauty’s selection
That only love knows.
The artist’s creation
Is like his beloved child
So intricately, love woven,
Meaning more than his life.
That baroque does not provoke,As beautiful is the lily,As the towering, stately oak.
When poets dream,The world becomes betterAnd Love goes further,
Trying to keep things afloat,Trying not to bail outFrom Life’s boatNot Easy!Sanity is a fragile lineThat once crossed overDoes not give a second chance,But being strong,Avoiding a head-on collisionIs not always easy,Nor within every human’s visionWhen you’re hurting to the core.Weak is the flesh,But the mind is more,Above all,When purple flowersNo longer singAnd love’s hopeHas…
Without being in loveWithout feeling,Some deep loveTowards somethingOr someone,Strange?No, not at all,Because for themThat is whatPoetry is all aboutAnd sentimentally,There is no doubtThat without loveLife has no meaningAnd poetry’s flameWill just die out.
And am lead to believe,That we are a race,Born in infamy,Having intelligence,Capability, heart,Why do we continue,To tear each other, apart?
That hidden, liesWe would never rise,We’d be buriedWell under,And have Hell,As our prize,Shame on usFor letting the tidesOf man’s evil natureAlways rise,Let each examineTheir conscienceAnd not say,They were takenBy surprise.
