like the rain falls

only we were most honest,
when the time had come—
no one would believe us—
save the ones who knew;

they didn’t like what we said,
those who’d think they held power—
we paralyzed them with fear,
all those following in blindness—

the strength they’ve all sought
was with the soul of every heart—
yet they cursed the bravest beauty
and so damned their whole lot—

only the poets’ love is king—
he chases, true, what he sees
and brings it back and for all,
with glory given graciously—

such are they who live to honor
all the life and love we witness
with all their words and walk—
they are the world and its richness

leave the arts to all the artisans
and the purposelessness of pedants;
but save pure poetry for the living
and the loving of every second—

time will only truly tell it well;
with victory are the victorious—
for, those who sing with silence
are those who speak it glorious—

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