Whispered Musings

Like the high eve of night,

silent, still, and blind,

Tell me tales of ages past,

of breaths left from your lips.

Lovely light with soft whispers,

Musings still untold, trapped.

Can you hear my soul?

Tight-lipped thoughts constrained in a

delicate untruth with longing and unease.

Distrust, dishonest, and uncertain.

Memories of being lost in the moment

beckon me.


~ by shespeakstruth on October 28, 2012.