The Singer & The World’s Pain

Melodious, she sang,
Like a bird in the meadow
Awake to the day;
Trilling to the heavens
And chirping to the flowers,
She praised the day,
The night, the dusk, the dawn.
It mattered not who heard,
What they thought,
What they said;
She sang relentless,
Regardless, with all her heart.
And for a moment,
A fraction in time,
The world’s pain lessened
Just a touch.
But every voice must silence,
Every voice must stall,
Only ifs remaining.
If only she’d sung eternal.
If only.

If?

The pain returned.

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16 thoughts on “The Singer & The World’s Pain

  1. Hi I’m new to the blogging life and was wondering if you could read my work and follow me I’d appreciate it as i am interested in literature and spoken word and lack a bit of confidence Thank you for your time and have a nice day

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