Sometimes I refrain to write,
It costs too much nerves to confide,
I am the easy-going type, who kept my world tight.

Sometimes I eager to write,
Astonished by soul”s hidden line,
I am the dreamer type, yet rides the earthy tide.

Sometimes I prefer the grand symphony,
With rose, champagne, tympani,
But all I have now is this distorted melody,
Written from my heart.
Whispering a simple song,
This time,
No poetry between the lines, my words won’t rhyme,
Its resonance out of space and time,
Its conscious devoid of guilt and lie.

Often, I wonder,
If souls ever cease to confide,
Who could ever write?

How sweet it sounds, when the poet sings,
Awakening the beguiling truth soul brings!
Entangled in these torments, half to blame,
May some god grant them power to speak their pain.

Be the Confided
Let us confide

.

.

.

.

Read Next: Beauty Is The Truth In You

Read More: Pleasant Fate

Read More: Lend Me Your Poem

Posted by:Annabel

A Dancer, choreographer, A researcher who specializes in Religious Dance and Ritual Performance Study. My blog is the notepad of my consciousness in the modern era we live and a witness of my unique journey on earth, in the cosmos.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.