Mystique

 

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He found himself in others, 

In others he planted himself.

A man of mystery, a man of talent.

When the tongue was silenced

He spoke out…

Cloak and literary dagger to fend.

The written word, a masquerade.

Letter and verse by who?

Hidden in heteronyms!

Politics and religion to rebuff.

How many wanted to mirror?

Gall hides from the jealous hunter,

So often with words, held in fear…

Fear of persecution, the verbal executioner waits!   

The tongue should be liberated. 

The brave, the mad, speak out from the shadows.

The spoken word our final frontier.

 

“I know not what tomorrow may bring”,

 

“Eu não sei o que amanhã pode trazer”

 

In honour and memory of FP, talent personified.