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The Ever-Waking Word

A contribution to the National Poetry Day

The ancient scrolls still hum beneath our hands,

Where Dante penned his vision of the damned,

And Shakespeare wove the web of love’s despair,

Their words like fire, fierce upon the tongue.

 

Yet what of now, in cities loud with steel?

Do poets falter when the heart’s revealed?

Do sonnets crumble under neon glare,

Or still they pu...

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