Poets, like words,
Hide behind the mask of poetry,
The verses cry in silence,
But the heart screams.
Explosions of expressions,
Making fierce impressions.
In fear of the torrid of personification.
They seduce using alliteration,
Rhymes of their souls are exposed
Only to impregnate and display the truth.
It is not easy,
It's intricately complex,
A knife cuts again
All the scars of the daggers of the past.
Silently, bleeding all over in pain,
Finally, when the mind is numb,
The body, out of blood,
The heart bleeds the words.
Under the garth of the night sky,
Comets of their emotions,
Shooting starts of their vagabond essence.
Ardent desires, fierce passions, intense imaginations,
Deep memories, withered pains, shards of shattered dreams;
The fiercest and deadliest of all combinations -
All penned in the simplest form.