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by Luna Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Music · #805049
A poem I wrote during a bit of a depressed mood, its the only poem I've ever writen.
Across the plains a sound awoke,
Coming from the valley below.

The whoosh of strings,
The rustle of leaves.
The strings sing,
The wood creaks.

Alone in the woods
Alone in the dark,
Finding peace in the music
Finding peace in the art.

A universal language
A dialect slowly dying out,
Known to the world
Yet slowly being left out.

No one listening
No one coming back,
Lost in the woods
Never coming back.

No one searching for her
No one caring,
No one looking for her music
No one seeing her beauty.

Finding peace in her passion
Finding peace in her art,
Alone with her music,
Alone in the dark.
© Copyright 2004 Luna (lunaserenade at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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