Unfinished
Burning, yearning for the song,
sound is lifting, shifting down.
All harmonics; poison strong,
I, who wear a siren's crown.
Hesitant; strained cantata,
trapped in fragile stone.
My blood; etched stigmata,
sings for His, alone...
Copyright © Carol Richard Weyler | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment