There's a whispering fire wearing white at my door
Speaking tongues with a voice sheathed in silent despair
Knowing all that I murmur alone to the air
All the songs that I sing to a love that's not there
All the gestures I make in my mind and then store
For the day when my heart cannot take anymore
And I turn from the fire, and I slam the front door
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Author:
Reivax Camlost (
Offline) - Published: September 8th, 2016 19:59
- Comment from author about the poem: We can't wait forever to feel what we feel, lest the truth tear itself from our hearts, and so steal the only love left for our poor hearts to feel.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
Offline)
Comments1
A short and sweet poem with a delicate poet's touch!
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