Your chiseled good looks
Inspiring books of poetry,
Words symbolically clashing
Packed with passion,
Meteorically rising
Then falling on wet bank holidays.
Image of a god, A god of imagery
Swallowing words in rising tides.
No one hides from your critical eyes
Flowers fade in your presence,
Time wears your essence.
Absent minds will find the answers,
Cutting through your soulful words
As your genius escapes
On the wings of dying birds.
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