Her voice lifted by the winds.
A truth all hear, but deny.
She waits for it, her heart in susspension.
A voice that would repair all damages.
Dissipates all fears.
Alas, a voice sings to her.
One so ravishing, it's words pleasant and immaculate.
She falls for this voice, it answering her truths with delicate vocabularies.
The voice entwnes with hers, a sound poowerful none can deny.
They become one.
All is lost.
saucybird
I love it, the vocab in poem is wonderful and keeps me reading
AppleLPfreak
Thank you. It's a personal belief of mine that poetry is the most beautiful form of writing, and should use the most beautiful forms of vocabulary,