II

One morning the winds stopped

A tsunami coiled over the seven seas

Towards the day, the grounds drifted apart

The distance much longer than it seems

The sound of the melodies breath'd in his nose

The sound waves brush'd against her pale white lips

The color of autumn had left and rose

The pain is the only thing left to admit

A braided necklace hung on her door

Every strand laced with his fragrance

Wet footprints on the hardwood floor 

Steps from silence brought her radiance

Cheer up, everyone said.

Put on a fake smile. Get away with it

She did. She already felt broken and half dead. 

On ink and paper will she release

Uttering whispers, she wants to scream

Weakening her to a disease

She throws the rope into the coldest sea

On ink and paper will he release

Bridges to the frozen seas

Freezing him down to his aching knees

The unspoken words they have concealed

Another string has been plucked

She prays to wake up to see a face

Another deed has been done

He awakes to see their fate

Flying across to pass the bridge

Cold as a stone, she stood still

Unbreakable but carved was his name

Engraved on a two stone hill

Traveling down the blackest wires

Losing her way to sane

There they stumble upon the white cold fire

Light of an oncoming train

Illuminating was the light, he held out a hand

Leaving every beating cell in her to fall into quick sand

Cluttered words, golden silence, and chemistry 

A world absorbed by the seven seas 

The piper and the beggar were finally free.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

"On ink and paper will he release
Bridges to the frozen seas
Freezing him down to his aching knees
The unspoken words they have concealed"
I told you once today. I like the way you use the language. You must of been a great reader. I believe we must read and learn the ancient writers to write with skill and strength. I like the feel of old. The poem doesn't preach. It teaches. Ink and paper is all we got sometimes. No weakness in the outstanding poetry.
Coyote