The Poet’s goal: to fan the famished flame
A catalyst to boost immortal fame
One glowing ember separate from the rest
One proof you have not exhaled idle breath
Your words left on their lips beyond your death.
The Poet’s aim: to pierce one reader’s heart
One glimpse, one touch, one passion to impart
The dream escapes from peaceful soothing sleep
As painful tears write volumes on your cheek
The Poet seeks a soul with which to speak.
Bare abstract thoughts as plain as day to eyes
Which read between the lines and scrutinize
As heaven’s inspiration comes to dwell
The Poet’s dream: reverse The Poet’s hell.