Poetry in Motion

There is nothing more beautiful than poetry in motion. More so than mere words, the action of lovely movement speaks much louder than any amount of literature. Few things can compare to the thrill of being able to watch beauty take flight, even if it is just for a fleeting moment. To behold such fine figures ascending to new heights time and again knowing full well that their dreams of flight will inevitably come crashing down to earth, it is more than enough to compel one to take on that unavoidable heartache in their stead.

The air itself is improved by a radiance that strives evermore. The air itself then becomes woefully inadequate upon descent back to earth where the rest of us remain at all times until death. It takes an admirable amount of courage to reach for that which mere mortals can only dream of. The ability to be free in ways that the rest of us cannot is something to be both treasured and protected at all cost while sparing no expense.

To be fearless in the face of both danger and nigh unfathomable scrutiny and be beautiful, that is the kind of poetry that leaves an indelible mark on the soul. The rhyme of movement, there is no lyricism that is sweeter. Indeed, it is the kind of literature that reaches epic scale and mythical proportions. That such a graceful existence is possible on planet earth is a fact that makes people hope against hope. It is living proof that divinity exists and that not everyone can rightly claim such a status. In a world where everyone thinks they can be right, the divine quality of a few is enough to tear the world asunder for lack of cognitive dissonance.

How beautiful a heart must be to freely give that which is priceless. A manifestation of all that is good shining as a beacon that guides lost souls in the night. It is that which compelled many a knight errant to fight the good fight or at least die trying. For what is there to live for if such poetry is to be denied ample opportunity to unfurl and frolic with sound mind and content heart? The answer to the question is simple, so much so that it shall not be answered out of respect for the premise.

Indeed, there is nothing more highly valued than the element of good. At least we can say that is the case among the righteous. What is more good than poetry in motion? Again, the question needs no answer but it shall be put forth for thee and thine to answer nonetheless. What sweet sorrow to part ways with such grace. It is enough to drive a man mad enough to embrace insanity, if only to hold on to the semblance of happiness for but a fleeting moment just before the demise of the heart. Yes, that kind of beauty must habitually take flight. If for no other reason, than because it gives the rest of the world hope.

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