\"a poet\'s soul\"
beneath the crush of bone and ink
in shadowed tone a voice uncoils
shrouded, deep, like roots that sleep
their counsel rising in ivory tower’s keep
each word a key, each pause a door
through unlit halls, through gaps they pore
each echo shaped by breath and ache
the kind no daylight dares to wake
a stammer turned to silver thread
that stitches silence with mortal dread
and in their seam, the heart can hear
a truth too strange to disappear
so read these lines and read them twice
a map that’s drawn on shifting ice
for those who on it walk, steps are swept
to find the soul this poet kept
.