A wandering of metaphor
A dancing pen that reaches far
A poem as a semaphore
A picture of a gleaming star
A soul that whispers in the air
"I strike within the wheels of fate;"
Who comes to find that wording fair
And tragedy assimilate
A feeler feeling out their rage
Yet without Hope they'll not Arrive
Thinker thinks of every stage
Who knew not that they were alive;
With poetry I came to see
That Feeling is the soul of me.