Untitled
Hark!
Off the soft lips of darkness
A voice whispers to me with the wind
Could it be?
Is it she?
Loves Maiden out from the darkness,
To free me from all of this life's insanity
In the distant darkness
a figure stands between the trees
Is it really she?
is the one I've sought so long
now finally standing before me?
The Silhouette of the maiden beckons me forth
With the graceful gesture of her arm
Slowly, I approach closer to her form
Soon I'll see her in the moon's light before me
But is it really she?
how gracefully she appeared and beckoned me
How beautiful her voice that called to me
It must be her, it must be-
Nay,
Alas my maiden, it isn't she
'Twas just another shadow, cast from moons light
And gust of wind blowing through the trees
Email: orkinman69@hotmail.com
