Wrongsong

 

Torment in the passing song
Commits my soul to long…to long
For moments past in softer climes,
Where wafting breezes whispered rhymes
And lavender did gift her scent
To soothing minds of harsh lament,
I stroked my hand across her brow
To reassure the calming now.
…Disturbing how they got it wrong
That torment in the passing song.