They disappear into the mists

their lights shine silently

����� upon the ground

leaving a trail

only a poets soul could follow

Like ghosts they a haunt a place;

a cave

hidden deep in the woods

their voices just echoes of the

past.

Never shall a poem be ordinary...

for then the poets soul shall also be

so......

Never write without feeling...

������� Never hide behind fear...

Soon agony shall take its toll,

and life be hindered by it.

Like notes soaring

through the air,

Thoughts soar through

������ ��the mind

Slowly a single note solidifies itself...

Holding on

until the sound dies

but the echoes of that note

still remain

haunting the cave of

The Dead Poets Society