All Poets Are Fools

I am a fool to attempt to express the beauty I see

When I look through the eyes of a heart aflame

All poets are fools, scribbling their fiery inspiration

Onto parchment that only bursts into flames

Words on fire with fathomless bliss and ecstatic beauty,

Where can they be written?

Nowhere in the world is a surface they will not burn through

Like a laser through darkness

They can only be written on the blazing heart

Only fire is not burned by fire

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