Wednesday, October 19, 2011
We read books forgotten by their authors.
A language least spoken...
It's not just a cast of words,
a play of rhymes,
an irony of thoughts,
dreamed up hyperboles,
or a medley of figures of speech.
It's a poet's heart,
his only companion,
his muses, his love,
grave pain, agony,
a written laughter.
It's a poet's mirror,
in which he shows himself,
his vision,
a sight for the blind,
his thoughts,
touching your lives.
Poetry:
It's though a cast of words,
but uncannily placed in a language,
a language with the same grammer,
but still;
least spoken.
___
The MO Showed me attitude today.
Hvernig mun þetta reynast
7:55 PM
