THE SONG GIVER
The tales of the Song
Giver,
Of a maiden known for
naught but her title,
And her heavenly voice
that sweetly chimes,
Sung with words that flowed
in beautiful rhymes.
Known to wander across
the lands with humility,
Donned only with weathered
robe of earthly brown,
And an old cloak that
fluttered like a maple leaf in autumn’s gale,
Embracing her life as
a nestless nightingale.
Her facade carried an
image of fragile beauty,
Like a blossoming rose
in the winter backdrop,
Yet her azure eyes
displayed the strength of endless determination,
As a grass flower
that weathered against a storm’s intimidation.
The songs of the Song
Giver,
Her name never to be
remembered,
But her legend
forever immortalized,
With this song and
tale I ensure it will be realized.
No comments:
Post a Comment