of sentiment untold

of sentiment untold

to the bridge above the waters of retreat.

what once my own

beyond the greatest knowledge of ideals

where tales of gossip flickered some place else

from a fragile mind of curious intent

to the end of days. gregorious yet dull;

 

the bitter side of tragedies that bare

my own self-worth of laughters hidden scroll

to the hideaway as sleeps eternal youth

as grey as I with one less thought each day

to while away all hours of a sun

that once dared walk me past half sodden woods

with light enough to pardon me a crawl;

 

how far away each tale of cities cold?

the whole of all as rests each lesser thing

I am but one beside such living things

that dwell inside each corner of a mind

where nothing but the quietness I own

in differing light more heavier than I;

this is where I am.

this is me;