From Poetry to Prose

The lines of poetry trickle down slower,
As the force of their flow lowers,
Condensing into thick, long lines,
While commas freeze into full stops,

Grammar hardens, turning rigid,
While the heart that melted now turns frigid,
Its skin now thicker, smirks cold without reason,
Analysis takes over, while emotion breaks at this treason,

Language raises its hefty eyebrows,
And slowly smiles at the mighty prose,
For it isn't often the case,
That surrender stops the flow of words,

The valve of the heart-tap closes full,
While the pen takes a break and rests still,
And then it dawn upon the holder of the quill,
That words now flow faster still,

That in poetry, it's emotions that flow,
While in prose, the rational glows,
Beating the speed of heart-spun words,
It dances to the tune of logic and sense,

Prose then smiles, glorious and proud,
Its wrds ringing, clear and loud,
Sans the dreary dreams of poems,
It recites its purpose, brief and to the point.

This work was inspired by a poem that came in the Bengali film, Baishe Srabon (poem link)