Dead poets will not craft their words again
their legacy lies only in their frozen verses
They find no space to write another line
once they are turned to dust or into ashes
Immortal only in their chosen words
their presence burns but brief on this estate
and we who walk on parallel pathways
are also subject to a similar fate
So wordsmiths, urgent may your lines be written
as time slips by and kingdoms rise and fall
May you catch and share your inspiration
No hesitancy must your craft forestall
While we are here inhabiting this planet
may we be passionate in capturing our lore
While we can, may we write truth to power
Once dead, the poet will arise to write no more
Steve Wheeler © 1 May, 2021
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