[untitled]

Where might there be
words writ,
fanciful but simply,
of tales embellished
by time and tellers’ wit?

Who might Shakespeare be
but a dead saint
in a weathered, crumbling
tomb; Solomon knew vanity;
Already Romeo archaically wanes.

But words will only be
an inexpensive art
of coloring every deceit.
Silence be golden, conceptually,
in a world exemplar.

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18 thoughts on “[untitled]

  1. nicely done. sometimes the message is clearer when there aren’t any words to muddle it. (did I get the message right?)

    thanks for pointing that out through this wonderful piece.

    Like

  2. “But words will only be
    an inexpensive art
    of coloring every deceit.
    Silence be golden, conceptually,
    in a world exemplar.”

    no words can explain (how ironic) how much this piece is speaking to my everyday. amazing! you are truly talented, i can’t wait to come back…

    Like

  3. Kudos! Very well done, well considered . . . and while words “may cover every deceit” sometimes the words embellished by time and teller are just so darned interesting. . .

    Like

  4. Very well written, and your words hold so much truth. Yes, indeed words hold so much deceit. Yet I personally believe, that even behind that deceit, you can find truth.

    Like

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