My pen, burning with words, ink.
Ideas go into my mind then sink.
If you’re a poet, then write and just write,
Until your fingers blacken, like frost-bite!
Can you feel your words changing air?
Pen loves paper, ink is their love affair.
Are you just a poet though? Oh, think more!
Surely more in your heart, you have in store!
Love, lust, wrath, death, pain, and sorrow,
All these are emotions you must borrow,
To write such a poem like a true poet.
Why have a boat if you cannot row it?
What’s the greatest emotion? Love it be!
For all other emotions can live in it, see?
Lust, wrath, death, pain, and sorrow are in love
They were all created by the Great Lord above
Have love to see lust, a poison so addictive
Turning you to an animal, for it is seductive
Wrath of jealousy, killing your kindness away
Making your life as a good human, go astray
Death of love, a sign of total loss of life
What can a man be if he loses his wife?
Pain, the base of love, if it hurts, it is true
It makes people blind in life, just like you!
Sorrow, do you understand how it feels?
If you think yes, then you’re such a fool!
Stop reading, leave. Emotions he steals?
Sorrow is a death wish, not just a tool!
A false sense of emotions, you have, in mind
Write, only then true emotions you will find
Words flow on paper, not in your head
Don’t think about it, just write instead!
You are reading within Damon’s Den
For a poet is only as good as his pen
– June 9th, 2019