To All Poets

I know, my darling poet, how you bleed

A gushing wound of bloodied metered rhyme

And yet this gash is what us humans need

To deal with life possessed by pain and time




I know the ache and tears that haunt your soul

The broken heart you carry in your chest

I know that all you wish is to be whole

A modicum of joy from life to wrest




But, ah, the only treatment left for you

Is like a humor doctor t’bleed your thoughts

And for the briefest moment, you are new

Until the fragile thread of wellness rots




Accept your fate, my dearest poet friend

For with your illness you can heal the ill

And with your literary blood on lend

You might restore another’s broken will



Viktoria Nikola

God’s Art



Impervious, impregnable, unnerving

Undoubtedly the best in all of me

Unnecessarily I wished to be

But here I am, the life within still churning




It’s burning, aching, trembling, weeping

Like someone said “I love you,” then “goodbye”

And even worse, the light it held is seeping

Through every cleft created with each sigh




It dies with daylight, then resurrected

A trick it learned drinking dreamless nights alone

Or rather drunk on darkness as expected

By universal laws of “reap and sow”




Impervious, impregnable, unnerving

Involuntarily I’m cast a diamond heart

But underneath the stone, I’m bleeding, hurting

I’m guessing God perceives this as his art



Viktoria Nikola