On worried wings,
he softly sings
of dreams of fire
and ghostly things
with deep desire.
He cries in vain,
though woes remain
beneath the sun.
He feels the pain.
Without desire
for those things,
he banks his fire.
Burned wood sings
through smoky wings
Without such pain.
beneath the sun
the coals remain.
He cries in vain.
-
Author:
Trenz Pruca (
Offline) - Published: January 15th, 2021 21:24
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments2
a to die for title and all that followed .. followed well ...
It read tragic. It was emotional. I felt the sadness of the verses.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.