brevity may be the soul of wit
but destruction is the soul of poetry

observe

in your hands you hold nature’s majesty
reduced
to mere sheets of dead wood
marked
by the transient thoughts of one blind to the moment

hoping to inspire a fraction of the awe that its life once gave

burn these pages
and feel the flames as they touch your soul
deeper
than any collection of words ever could

Watch this poem on YouTube

This poem is inspired by the book, ‘How To Write Evocative Poetry’.

Poetry