IF A RAP WERE A POEM

By Vera Von Monika

It would not march in rhyme,
but pulse, collide, explode in quiet.
Each line a spark,
each pause a drum,
a current flowing through shadowed spaces.

Words would bend and twist,
orbiting each other like restless stars,
bruised, brilliant,
refusing to settle into measure.

Every stanza would tremble,
soft as smoke, sharp as steel,
holding contradiction like a crown
that refuses to fall.

Truth would rise without shouting,
fall without permission,
a force that leaves the world altered
long after the echo fades.

Not a verse to follow,
not a beat to chase,
but a pulse to feel,
a storm of meaning
woven into silence itself.

← Back to all poems