A poet does not chase the fleeting fame,
For life is more than just persisting breath;
Mere words without true ground are weak and lame,
But truth revealed outlives the grasp of death.

Though oft condemned, he walks with honesty,
His ego’s shadow rests but fades away;
Each line a prayer shaped through constancy,
Rewarded by God’s grace at close of day.

Through hardship still he dares to voice the fight,
Not living just to feast or seek delight;
His words give meaning, lifting hearts in night,
Against injustice, burning clear and bright.

So let his song, though scorned, forever live,
For truth is all a poet longs to give.