Poetry is a sweet itch that assaults the mind...
A burning itch for which there is no vaccine...
A fever of emotion that rises recurrently...
For no reason and at every corner!
Thought produces antibodies in its defense
In several lines of rhymed verse.
But it does not cease until it honors beauty
And has no peace if art with the pen does not sublimate!
Writing is always a frenzy that subsides?
A feverish reverie of the aura called inspiration!
Because a poem is the gleam of the soul's reflection
Is the light and heat emanating from the fire of passion!
The true spirit of the poet is a tormented spirit,
which all the bounties of glory always reject,
though his work makes the world ecstatic,
But does not deeply touch the heart of his muse!
Thank you for reading me, I count on your support!(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
@anyelinasc
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