
They who question themselves
Do not answer to others
And they who answer to all
Cannot question on their own
Thus we human stray
Mephistopheles now led by Faust
Laying markers on the way
Though oneself being as lost
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Author: TheHumanAnvil
I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you.
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Marvellous words and a lovely picture
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Thank you very much my dear friend
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You’re very welcome
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