The Immortal Poet

Through diamond eyes see putrid skies

And men that are of clay.

Shattered hearts, where poetry starts

Before the light of day.

On the dawning morn of the day that I was born

I took the pen in hand.

Captured the night: lines against white

And began to walk the land.

Riven lands and pillaged homes; forests where do dwell the gnomes.

All a part of life's menagerie.

Dust of chalk, lovers that stalk

Form the spell that life does weave.

Heavenly winds, a mind that bends,

A heart that now is still.

Land for rent; upon parchment

And die when I put up my quill.

See the unseen through Hell's red sheen

And ash that filters down.

Laugh to cry; live to die.

How the world loves a clown.

Reality lies, the dreamer tries

To catch the soul within.

The world shall turn and pyres burn

As each new life begins.

Patrick W. Crocker ©