A Minstrel Born

a minstrel born of poet’s heart
for heart a minstrel needs
as in my songs and ballads pure
my soul marks all its deeds,

so gentle is the writer’s heart
yet cruel and cold at times
the poet lives but for his verse
and breathes but in his rhymes

and though I may write a million words
as write them all I must
it matters not for like my heart
they one day will be dust,