The Myth Inside
Love you were the living endJust beginning to disappear,
The myth inside my legend
Book opened Autumn of the year,
The page before the cover closed
Forevermore to sleep in night alone,
My lover more than you supposed
Your deep reverberating crystal tone,
Was notes of light the Winter read my mind I lost
Amongst an always growing stellar sweep,
We never keep from freezing when we wear the frost
I felt the broken splinter's piercing deep,
Song dying with a sweet farewell pretend in a
Book opened Autumn of the year
The myth inside my legend
Just beginning to disappear
Love you were the living end.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 1022 times
Written on 2014-11-11 at 09:19
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