12 String Heart   Leave a comment

12 String Heart

The strings from time past,
stretched his heart across
the shadows of the moon.

He knew it could not feel
but he felt that it could see.

The night ground its teeth.

This was not the first time.
This was the first time.
This was not the first time.

Love had come and gone
before. Or had it? The moon
held silence and would not speak.

With the sound of … the sound of
heart to beating heart
the moon drops fell.

This was not the first time.
This was the first time.
This was not the first time.

He glanced at her again, again
a glance, again; or was he
looking away instead.

Awkward was the stance he took,
portraying indifference did not
come easily to his heart.

This was not the first time.
This was the first time.
This was not the first time.

The moon had seen his love, yet
she had not. The moon.
Love. Why was this so hard?

His breathing now laboured, he
knew he had but less than 12
new moons to tell her of his love.

This would be the first time
This could be the last time
This would be the first time

I give you the strings of my heart
to play … to play … to play
He passed.

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Posted 25/04/2013 by DarKarsean in Musing, poem, poetry, Uncategorized

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