My heart is unsettled
with thoughts of her
Fire
Ice
I wish I could express them
but I can’t
They are too jumbled
They are too intense
They are too painful
I wonder if she realizes
that she holds my heart
in the palm of her hand?
A single squeeze
and I will perish
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
"I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung." ~ Rabindranath Tagore
- bard
- A mixture of poet and musician, warrior and philosopher, the bard, having grown weary of trying to find his place in the modern world, retired to the Lonely Bard Inn to contemplate his future. He is often seen drinking or writing alone (a personification of the inn itself), but from time to time he joins in the festivities that are always to be found in the pub. On occasion he even shares a poem or song with the sympathetic patrons, who are usually eager for new forms of amusement.
Achingly evocative.
ReplyDelete