"The secrecy chamber of poets which untold"
When do the soul of poets sincerely revealed?
Reversed to their silent words
Reversed to the colors of their worlds
Spineless, spaceless, beautifully saved behind the shapes of those letters
Could you sense?
When the rage prevailed and the turbulence weaved the wounds?
Or when their world raised and lived like there were two moons?
Infinite thoughts brought the beauty patterns of their spectrums
When the soul of poets sincerely revealed
Would you flee from the essence?
Or just pretend like you don't care?
Will you be true?
Questions took their queues
The row of answers await behind the backbone of mystery
Chased the essence of each poetry
The readers are the King, the privilege of judge may on their grip
But we are the weavers,
Any-who may join on comfort
Welcome to the blanket of our warmth