Torchbearer's Curse

From painters old, who once were dear

I come with fire, to torch the land

I see but nothing, writings smear

A god is walking on the sand

I walk with Dante, his world profound

I see the devil in disguise

I hear no music, a lame sound

I read no poetry, but lies

To those who copy common things

And think there is where lies the way

I curse that boredom that one then brings

The hell with poetry, I say

Cuz on the edge, there is the beauty

And there is where the war is lost

Is common things that absolutely

Is killing poetry, the most