Ringing the bell
Rope strung through fingers,
Slipping through my grasp.
The creak of the metal
And the reward of song
Are known only by the conductor.
This place of worship
Knows no visitors
But the bells still sing their songs,
Admissions of grief for a solitary audience.
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Author:
Rael (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 26th, 2023 10:30
- Comment from author about the poem: I will say this one doesn't make much sense, but sometimes that's what goes with the heart. This poem is Pantone 17-4111 TCX, or #748995. Thank you for reading.
- Category: Letter
- Views: 1
Offline)
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