Song of the Lost (Rewrite #2 2009)
I saw
a wintry song bout us all.
The minstrel had brought a package
of cold new Eden
The crowd hovered,
as statues to the heathen.
Sounds poured,
thoughts raced to the wind.
When silence passed
the minstrel would begin.
The vibration of string began
with a note in the hand
Listen! The simple song of hope
the hope of dreams
sounds so pure
from such simple strings
wrought with pain and cure.
Tasted were salts of sound
Each bent, to benefit our need.
blank stares streamed,
with tears that were broken
Each touch of coldness, and thought of regret
formed dreams that only men can forget
From deep Edens verse emptiness now poured
filling every space of every chord.
Notes meant to harm not heal
Now caressed my soul
Sounds of cold rhythms swarming
so dark I dared not look away
lest my life lose its meaning there on that day.
In the end as falling into a pit
my heart soared, to escape the madness of it
I now burdened by song
stood at the end of all hope
then as if seeing our pain and tears
knowing of our fears
In anticipations silence he did bow,
and with one final note
my darkened mood enshroud.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
