In the silence of the worlds prose
the sound of words wither
upon ink and paper
come hither,
madness is the rush rambunctious
like ready raised poetic tales
let us live for the recitals,
the headstrong passionate prevails
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this poem poets do live in a world of ink and pens a world of their own whichever way you look at that world.