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For progress thrives where liberty is crowned.

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On one side, you stand at peaks of modern might, Where artifice and thought in robots blend, In every field of life, their hands take flight, Fast nets and webs our lives they swiftly mend. Yet olden laws, like ancient chains, still bind, A hurdle in this path where the futures lie. These laws, so rigid, halt the march of mind, They need be changed, or else this age shall die. Let your institutions flex, adapt, and grow, For a balance in this era must be found. Those jungle laws, with swiftness, must let go, For progress thrives where liberty is crowned. In this new age where man and machine merge, Our laws must change to match the coming surge. --- Poet Affaq  

NIGHT WIZARD

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"NIGHT WIZARD"  with whom I identify.  If you think you would see  another one, write it down. Barbara Gramza  Poland 🇵🇱 NIGHT WIZARD  it's dark in thousands of windows sleep doesn't come thoughts plunder the brain before he can hit the keyboard I feel the cool fingers of the night on my temples lamp lit I labor over the table carrying white sheets of paper writing perhaps his most important poem I go deep inside myself and I'm taking out a ladder which I awaken with my words and warm with my breath I'm checking if it can live its own life now  appear to the poem to the night creator show me if in your narrow eyes there is already light  whether you already have a good voice  don't shout, speak as an adult, stand up straight  stop at the edge of my poem among the front lines where thought fights against thought  busy sleepless stop I beat my heart at the dawn at the door the next day I fold the envelope with the finished poem every poe...

There will be a day

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There will be a day... Author: Kozma Barnáné Dandé Valéria Hungary  There will be a day when you will be happy then I will be happy with you.  There will be a day when you dream and I will continue to weave your dream.  There will be days when you grieve and I will comfort your soul.  There will be days when you cry I will wipe your tears.  There will be days when everything hurts I put my hand on your shoulder.  There will be days when you are afraid then my hug calms you down. There will be a day when there is no hope but I'll give you a hand.  There will be days when you want silence then I will listen in silence. By  Kozma Barnáné Dandé Valéria Hungary  Blog administrator  Poet Affaq  

Greed spreads like wildfire

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Greed spreads like wildfire, blind and fierce, Each day it gains more unyielding strength, Prices for night’s repast will only pierce, Labor day champs must not ignore, at length. Plague of greed would ravage all we hold, In politics, in trade, and stocks, it thrives. God’s supreme law alone can justice mold, Apart from that, our short-lived life deprives. For sin did lead to man's most dire descent, From Eden’s grace to endless fiery chains. In veins it runs, a horror never spent, Both day and night in restless, mocking pains. Oh Lord, behold his dark, unholy feats, Deliver us from greed that never retreats. Poet Affaq  

Love reigns o'er the wealth, and fame's domain,

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Love reigns o'er the wealth, and fame's domain, O'er chariots, bands, with a steadfast gaze, O'er stately homes and castles' grand array; All nothing but hollow shells if love's in vain. No learned leech can fathom love's deep pain, A tender ache its, which lips cannot portray. It's no mere whim, for swiftly love can claim The heart, and lead it where it must obey. O'er the rivers deep, where fates of lovers soar, Dearest instruct your babe in loves tender art Thus, shall he grow, with love his guiding star, And treasure most what wealth cannot confer. If there is any lengthy tale most melancholic  It's the loves tale, mesmerizing and symbolic. ©Poet Affaq  https://www.instagram.com/p/C8weDarJUHF/?igsh=MXR6OW9oZ3V2NHQ0Zw==

In the early April

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In April, when the bright flowers do bloom, I wandered forth to drink the fresh, cool air. Beside fair ice-stream, amidst perfume, In reverie, I found beauty dwelling there. An old friend of mine in his native costume  Did hunt the trout while it was still dewy. Young wives with baskets, to the hills they flew For to gather the wild mushies and hilly  Dandelions, their tales of love they shared; As breezes from the isles brought new joys. In the early April, past memories fond arise, Beneath the moon, on grass of silver hue. In sleep on dewy ground, I found my peace; As April's charms and memories never cease. ©Poet Affaq  https://www.instagram.com/p/C8uKNyVpaQb/?igsh=MWQ2ejdmMzJuY3Q4ag== Instragram 

New morning from the sea- holm

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New morning from the sea-holm grants Golden dews and wine to olive plants. A teardrop hangs on the leaf of the olive, Soon may fall down and lose all its love. Shore birds, frightened by the ocean storms, Stay here with me, but follow local norms. Sweet zephyr, just shake those rainy clouds For the sake of rustic school girls in gowns. And for the plowman, toiling all day long, Caught under the hailing, singing his song. O my sweet Aura, linger in the windy tree, And behold, there is none in between. O my green-love, fan my cheek to cheek, It's my inner urge, but let it not be leaked. People may accuse me, that with the breezes, He was making moans in the windy trees. By Poet Affaq