THE POETIC LANGUAGE
A language from heart
which sometimes hurt.
As beyond the science;
It's far from grammatical sense.
It scores the goal
When touches the soul.
Always like a catalyst.
Loved by alchemist!!
It's the scavanger;
It's the Anti-Virus.
Sometimes beyond comprehension,
For who breeds competition.
Stay away those SVO patterns,
Run! Run! the grammatical lovers,
Keep aside your grammatical lust-
O braggart linguist!!!
Never dissect poems-
Nor butcher the sensible soul
But kill your rules.
With "the freedom-
of Poetic Licence";
Let the Poet
Express his lot.
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