Poetic minds only reside within the bodies of those who've stared Death Himself in His empty sockets and invited him with open arms only to be told they aren't worthy to receive the gift that is Deaths embrace.
Poetic minds belong to those who are willing to wield the Scythe with their own two painfully mortal hands.
Ones mind may only be referred to as "poetic" once the vessel is occupies acts only with the goal of earning it's own right to perishment.
The mind of a true poet is a mind attached to a long ago decayed soul left without any will to live on.
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