The Eyes of a Poet
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My glassy Eyes - from Fires wrought -
Were Stained with streaks of Night.
Peculiar are these Eyes of Dusk
Which dawn with Lack of Light-
Lain bare across such Surface slick
Was Truth - which Sightless Seek.
As if The Moon, could catch a Star
- A folly obsolete.
Yet Simple as the Sky to Spin
Or Stars to pierce the Night
My Marble Eye -
Oh blinded plight -
Shall Swell, A Celestial Sun!
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MVP-Most Valuable Poet
this is an amazing poem
from what i read and interpret, it's abou finding oneself
beautifully written
whoiskidkheprii
Thank you man. Means alot. And yeah, it is about finding yourself. Finding one's Power as Poet. Realizing the Power in one's words. Some call it song. I call it poetry. I think poetry, song, music is the best (if not only) way these days to have your voice heard, how you want it to be heard. And spark change. In others. In yourself. A change. Change is good :) And change is free, isnt it?