What Keats Could Have Said

Words trip, and bleed
And plead to stay part of me.
Words sing my soul's despair;
Life, love and death to bring
This internal make of rapture.
....Waiting for Angels
To fly me away
From this capture...
Although the beauty
Of anticipation,
Can lead to undying frustration,
I nuture a new beginning
Only to see,
The ingenuity
Of words to be.