Staring deep at the infinite ocean,
The water drops seem like poets to me.
All rhythmic with the watery motion.
All intently sparkling for me to see.
And all claim in vain of their golden art
Of reviving our mechanical souls
By our drinking of their insightful hearts —
The elixir that could vanquish our tolls!
I scooped and sipped their fowl verses.
Shame on me, but I should have better known —
Words for glamorous immortal gain
Have left nothing but artistic shame.
For only the passionate soul can yield a verse
That can lift humanity’s soul out of its hearse.