The Poet
The poet is a dreamer
A prophet of what might be,
Speaking in rhyme or lyric
And the visions that he sees.
The poet creates an image
Of a world to fit his imagery,
Where life is peace and beauty
And all beings live in harmony,
Yes, the poet is a dreamer
And life is his dream,
Like a painter with his canvas
Imagining scenes that are serene
Where he lives in his wishes,
And sometimes they come true.
But his bubble can be broken
and he can wake up sad and blue.
The angels have a lyre,
And sing songs oh so sweet.
And the devils light the fire,
Of malice, guile, and deceit.
The poet is a dreamer
In a world of demons and ghouls,
Where evil and cruelty can flourish
And where tread sinners and fools
Does the poet ever know it,
That his life is a fleeting dream?
You can read all about it here
Where poets reign supreme.
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