As poets we have one purpose only
though nameless and unknown, it still holds true
the reasons for poetry are many
they bely with answers the suffering
Nothing makes sense to a poet of death
as we know it-- mere speculation, myth,
and being as we know it more worthy
as time is required for the journey
For being is as something unalike
as never and always sleep or awake
to our ears a long and low silent cry
but to our ancestors are everything
A poet is another way to get
from one side of distance to the other.
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