He writes

He wrote the strings of his time
At the birth of waterfalls
Long before moutains rise

He wrote writen joy with his tear
Only to prove the unwritten love
In his liquid tounge

He wrote nightmares of his ancerstors
On whiteboads to erect monuments
Of their legacy

He wrote
Paralysed songs
Over his footprints
Enving tears he cried
Today all is gone
Revised self got wings
Yearning to fly

So now he writes Poetry