ars poetica

to write:
to expel,
each breath,
immortal man;

to take up the mantle long forsaken–

to mourn the widow’s tears
and reword the newborn cry;

to speak for the mute,
to hear for the unwilling.

we are the craftsmen,
the slaves to the unwrit,
seers of beauty and horror
which no man stomachs.

we are the makers,
forgers of story and song.

we are the wordsmiths,
we are the prophets,
we are the poets.

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