O we poets are restless creators.
We still search for the original seed
That gives birth to a myriad flowers.
We never conflate false wants with real needs.
We travel far and wide from pole to pole;
From icy realms to roaring worlds of fire
We never lose sight of our sovereign souls.
We are witnesses to a world that's mired
in a swamp of narcissistic frenzy.
We still believe in following the light.
We keep uncovering subtle beauty,
Despite the emptiness of starless nights.
That gives birth to a myriad flowers.
We never conflate false wants with real needs.
We travel far and wide from pole to pole;
From icy realms to roaring worlds of fire
We never lose sight of our sovereign souls.
We are witnesses to a world that's mired
in a swamp of narcissistic frenzy.
We still believe in following the light.
We keep uncovering subtle beauty,
Despite the emptiness of starless nights.
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