What is art?

I often find my inspiration at my desk, surrounded by candles, and in peace. One particular night, I asked myself, why do I even write poetry? This, is my answer.

Time demands that I run a marathon

But weary are the legs of those who run their whole life

Each step, an expression of inevitable time

All this, to chase that cheap dime

Though lacking in flair, trite, and rapid,

we’ve come to fancy a quick day

Ignorant of the beauty of the flickering candle 

In today’s world, its beauty is something few can handle 

I write not to fill the page or dull my pencil, 

but to hear silence in mind, even just for a second

To drown out the clock’s sound,

which reminds me of the death to which I’m bound

I’ll return to reality, soon, but let this poem stay

For this is who I am: beauty with chaos

Be my guide, act like the clouds that guide the sun’s way

And in this moment, forever I shall stay 

Author's Note

Please feel free to comment and suggestions! I am looking to improve my writing and will try to read all comments!