Only when there is nothing left –
of whispers caught in the throat of twilight
no shards of souls lingering in ribcages of stones
echoing in hollowed halls no embers to remember
And still, they cling on, oh sweet Lenore
to what the dark has swallowed whole
Does the beguine begin to slow mourners waltz
over silent graves hearing the wind blow
into the girth of silent hymns
a requiem for the lazy bones
hello dearest Adagio I really liked this but thought lazy bones don’t quite go with the rest of the poem perhaps a different word choice? anyway good write 💕
Thank you.