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My pen knows not the symphony of words
My lips know not the oratory of a griot
But write I must
Of a time when stars played
On the knee of the sun
They thrived
Resplendent
in Midas touch
Content
And the darkness came
With it,a thousand screams
Of dreams lost
deeds undone
Words unsaid
The sun left
The sky was bereft
An empty husk
The cosmos was
The moon and seven stars
A reminder of what had been
And what will be
A prophecy
The east shall see its face again
THE END
I got inspired to write this. It's about losing something, someone. How everything seems like a memory and all is dark, but don't worry, the sun will come out tomorrow.
If you like it. Please.
Comment.
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You could also read my poem about a broken heart
Thank you😊.
