I am both the poem,
and the poet at the same;
for beneath all the talents,
lies my desire for the fame;
and I do strive for the best,
for which I am compensated:
writing in but a simple jest,
the feelings that I've demonstrated;
but I live for the above,
as there is power and wonder;
while myself I learn to love,
while I whimper and ponder;
for is it not that my boon,
lies in the smiles of the moon?
Is it not that my talent,
has finally become prevalent?
Is it not that my thoughts,
have finally showed my sought?
Is it not that my power,
has finally bloomed into the flower?
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
