The magic in my soul
cannot be tarnished by life’s hell.
It cannot be diminished
by the greed of mankind’s ignorance.
It flows onward
into the ocean of mankind’s destiny.
The words will march on
until my eyes close, my final breath.
I will write a verse of love
even when I am not sincerely it.
My stanzas of human life,
will breathe even when I am a monster.
Hunger leads me to write,
an intense hunger to express my soul,
gray as storm clouds,
setting in upon a lightning strike.
A verse of romance,
leading to passion’s fire will not burn out.
I will keep it alive
because it deserves an ink in history’s memory,
written with intensity
that brings a kiss to life with fire.
As the world dies,
the ink will not dry upon the page,
but flow like crimson rivers
into a heart of a poet’s desire within this fire.
Timothy Michael DiVito c2003