My pen shall stop bleeding
As it runs out of ink
My mouth shall stop
Reciting as I stop talking
I shall stop writing
As I die. I shall forget
Poetry not, the tears of
A poetry shall fall,
As the pen bleeds

All nations shall bow
Before poetry, all shall
Witness the power out of
A poet, the spirit of a
Poetry shall not die,
The power of a poetry
Will live and the future
Generations will know of

It shall change the way
We think it shall innovate
The world. Long live the
Spirit of poetry.