The story was very simple,
One broken girl,
Trying to save a broken boy,
But in doing so,
Shattered herself.
At night,
She sang him a lullaby.
He said the nightmares,
Didn't come to him,
If she was near.
At day,
He played her a tune,
She sang her song,
In a lilting voice.
At morn,
He mourned for her,
But she was so cold,
She wouldn't even move.
Still,
At night,
She hummed to him,
Her lullaby,
To keep the nightmares at bay.
Tragedy was in their stars,
Love in their eyes,
A kind of hollowness in their voice,
Sadness shone in their eyes.
Still,
The tune of the,
Lullaby,
Never faded.
Even dust sings their story now,
Listen close to the tune of the night...
You can still hear,
The moon,
Singing that lonely lover's lullaby.
YOU ARE READING
Way Ward
PoetryLife is a jumbled mess. And from within this mess, I'm gifting you "your" stories, along with the stories of some other lost souls. Way Ward - A way to find your lost self.
