EVERY LINE I MADE

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Every stroke of my pen accustomed my heart It smiles, it pains it creates a mystic art It gathers heart mates on the beyond islands It touches a lot of silent souls, weak and damn Every line I made captured an open-minded being. It sparkles, glistens, and so do nurtured mingles soul mates in love and despair. It wraps all the loving hearts full and vain.  Every poem I made conquered passive thoughts. It lights, it whispers, it speaks, it shouts for toots. It shines in awe. It dispels doubts and dense. It hugs and kisses your souls empty and tense.

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