R. Thomasin
Laurels
Stirred by a broken chordThe notes descend toWords I have heard beforeThe tones unendingWhisper of a poetryA chain of words repeating endlesslyThere is no tangle in the circuitryNo disagreement in the guaranteeTender these amenitiesCrafting new identitiesShadowing our dormant mindsSolitude is how we hideOnce more you can beginYou listen to theSounds as they pull withinAnd multiply this
From Letras Mania