tomahawk
I am.
- Joined
- Nov 8, 2025
- Posts
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While others drink and puff the smoke,
One's desire just awoke.
Yet the desire's not a miss,
But a wish, eternal bliss.
The will to live and love and strike,
To surprise and truly like.
A poet's trust and poet's friend
Is his mind, and not his end.
Trust the words, since for their sake
Mouths are open, and life's a stake.
Prose is beauty, no disguise,
For it determines who to rise,
It shows a man for how he's wise,
It teaches great to sightless size.
From wicked lands and ruthless sands,
It guards from evergreen demise.
From what the devil now demands,
From hurtful blows and evil eyes.
Thought is chance and thought is love,
A broken dice and foolish dove,
Misguided son who's lost in Sun
Of wasted time and worthless rhyme
Must be aware and fiercely run.
Blinding shine and work in vain
Break and kill and enforce pain,
Thieve and loot in misty rain
Of empty hopes and dreams that sane
Would not believe and wouldn't urge,
Since views of yours to them are purge,
Of their well-being it is surge,
But do not stop - your thoughts must splurge
Into their minds that stand like wells,
Since water theirs reeks bad and smells.
Rotten belief that's born by grief
Do not accept, don't be a thief.
Tired nights and daydream flights,
Heist to conquer, to win fights,
To stray away from barren ways,
From silent whisper and Sun's hot rays
Must feel and urge to be aware
Of what danger he thinks is rare,
For what is sudden is not to stare,
Do not stay slow, don't let it glare
At you with evil and with cries,
For such are empty, such are lies.
Keep working hard, in it, is heart.
Strive, for it is beauty, it is art.
INB4 DNR
One's desire just awoke.
Yet the desire's not a miss,
But a wish, eternal bliss.
The will to live and love and strike,
To surprise and truly like.
A poet's trust and poet's friend
Is his mind, and not his end.
Trust the words, since for their sake
Mouths are open, and life's a stake.
Prose is beauty, no disguise,
For it determines who to rise,
It shows a man for how he's wise,
It teaches great to sightless size.
From wicked lands and ruthless sands,
It guards from evergreen demise.
From what the devil now demands,
From hurtful blows and evil eyes.
Thought is chance and thought is love,
A broken dice and foolish dove,
Misguided son who's lost in Sun
Of wasted time and worthless rhyme
Must be aware and fiercely run.
Blinding shine and work in vain
Break and kill and enforce pain,
Thieve and loot in misty rain
Of empty hopes and dreams that sane
Would not believe and wouldn't urge,
Since views of yours to them are purge,
Of their well-being it is surge,
But do not stop - your thoughts must splurge
Into their minds that stand like wells,
Since water theirs reeks bad and smells.
Rotten belief that's born by grief
Do not accept, don't be a thief.
Tired nights and daydream flights,
Heist to conquer, to win fights,
To stray away from barren ways,
From silent whisper and Sun's hot rays
Must feel and urge to be aware
Of what danger he thinks is rare,
For what is sudden is not to stare,
Do not stay slow, don't let it glare
At you with evil and with cries,
For such are empty, such are lies.
Keep working hard, in it, is heart.
Strive, for it is beauty, it is art.
INB4 DNR
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