Silent Song
What is life but a succession of preludes to unwritten words . .
Quote by_Constance La France
What is love, but a tale; a gust of wind blown in the dark.
In dwindling hope, it is lost; for it failed to make a spark.
The blank pages await for painted words to shed its grace;
But the blind feelings faded away in nothingness without a trace;
For hope is faint for love's eternal inscription;
A forgotten silent song without any dedication.
November 18, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere No 53 Poetry Contest (6th place)
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Writing Challenge V Form Poetry Contest (3rd place)
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Copyright © R. B. Cawis | Year Posted 2022
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