My yearnings,
They are melancholic singings,
Echoed through the empty alleys,
Back to my own ears.
Words,
they deformed at the back of my throat.
Melodies,
they played on a silent mode.
But this was meant for you,
A cantata I composed.
Rehearsed time after time,
Though was never performed.
If only the echoes could stretch out to you now,
Through the labyrinth of time.
YOU ARE READING
Queen After Dusk
PoetryI wouldn't exactly call these poetry Because they are more like a collection of words All written by me after dusk For no one and everyone and especially For myself
