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A poet wears their work in place of wounds

A poet wears their work in place of wounds,
Their words are scars of light and darkness on the canvas of the soul.
In the flow of consciousness, I wander through gardens of melancholy,
Wearing the verses that sing both suffering and joy like a cloak.
Each metaphor is a carefully closed wound,
A drop of bleeding transformed into pure art,
Each stanza, an echo of their heartbeat,
Expressing its call through whispers of eternity.
In the depths of the night, when silence becomes a cathedral filled with dreams,
I weave my pain with words, each letter a balm,
An act of alchemy where suffering turns into gold,
Where tears become stars and sadness a constellation.
A poet weaves their work like a silk canvas stained with blood,
Each wound a portal to unknown universes,
Each verse, a mirror reflecting the entire cosmos,
And the darkness falls, but the light continues to shine in their heart.
In the flow of my thoughts, rivers of emotions run,
Where each ripple carries an untold story,
A longing, a sadness, a strange joy,
In each verse lies a part of me, a fragment of my eternity.
My poems are amulets that protect the soul from life's wounds,
With each word, I open windows to new horizons,
A world where wounds become sacred signs,
And suffering transforms into symphonies of an unknown harmony.
I wear my words like a shield against time and oblivion,
Each verse, a flame burning in the depths of the night,
A light guiding through the dense darkness of non-existence,
Each written wound is an unfinished healing, an endless quest.
In the flow of consciousness, each stanza is a cathedral of fragile truths,
Where each wound turns into art, each pain transforms into beauty,
A play of shadows and light, where I discover who I am,
And where, with each written word, my wounds become sources of light.
A poet wears their work in place of wounds,
A testament to the struggle and victory despite the pain,
A living tapestry of their soul, where each thread is a story,
And thus, in the endless flow of thoughts and feelings,
My words will continue to dance in eternity,
The emblem of a heart that chose to turn wounds into light,
And suffering into an endless song of life.

Copyright © Dan Enache | Year Posted 2024

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