Words emerging from your quill,
Blazing with an effulgence,
Capering and crooning around,
In harmony or in dissonance.
Rhyming in a golden cage,
Flying around in splendid colors,
Or, in a greenish meadow,
Flying away in divine freedom.
The beads of words will last long,
In our minds, if threaded strong
Whether structured or unstructured
As I know, I'm your spectator.
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