Where words are dangerous, the poet lives
In symbols and allusions just to find
Another day to bind to wisdom which he gives
You face the world, must bow before the dreck
Who think the poet's magic make a witch --
The heretics will pitch their axe into your neck
They cannot silence you -- your death will seal
Your words in souls who heard of you in death --
Your words will pass your breath and make your readers heal
The cowards seek the power of the state
To silence those who give the world a glance
Of better things -- a dance, a song, a better fate
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