What Is

Poetry is not a soul

That's assuming that it is something that can be made whole

Flooring this area a literary kaleidoscope

It is a day that never was

What can be made and destoyed with just a couple of words

A forge for all characters; a bit of a curse

Wipe the lines drawn in the sand

This exhilaration a one night stand

In need of a weaver of illusions, I'll lend a hand

It is a place where what was lost will be found

A stage where even the most black hearts won't be judged by their reasoning unsound

Welcome to the round table of the world's most unwound