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There is something in inherit in in the words, like a dusk in poetry where its like watching the day break and in this moment you recognize that you are a part of something new.
For a moment, you are not drifting in the world and you are part of creation, a creator in world of creators and all of us cobulding this wonderful thing.
There are writers of light and writers of dark and they tell their own story until they clash and one story ones and the other one is remembered and ultimately one story survives time.
The true story is not that the story survives but the transformation of the poet and his/her survival to tell the next great story.
