Poetry is the language of unsung words,
The silent lament of a broken heart.
A shelter, a solace where comfort is found,
A place to call home, yet worlds apart.
It is a work of divine grace,
Accepting uncertainty in life's embrace.
It heals what medicines cannot do,
Letting the eyes pass gently through.
It is a way to express the verse—
Unsaid, unheard, forever untouched.
A route to immortalise the solemn trade,
Eternally unchanged, forever unmasked.