I dressed my words in blue velvet
lay them out behind a purpled bruise shroud
of nightingales song
then screamed them through old thyme
with the burning of black rose
and still you turned the tides against me
How long do I wait
for the cry of blackbirds
to empty from the wells in my eyes
How long do I wait
for your goodbye to greet me
Just to know my words
were not the wasted lands
Of a nomad lost
lay them out behind a purpled bruise shroud
of nightingales song
then screamed them through old thyme
with the burning of black rose
and still you turned the tides against me
How long do I wait
for the cry of blackbirds
to empty from the wells in my eyes
How long do I wait
for your goodbye to greet me
Just to know my words
were not the wasted lands
Of a nomad lost
awwwwwwww sad but beautiful x
ReplyDeleteWaiting for signs.
ReplyDeleteThis poem is beautifully done! :)
I really love this Beez. You pack so much beauty into so few words.
ReplyDeleteDear Beez
ReplyDeleteI have felt many of the same emotions. Your poetry is very beautiful.