Truth – ahorsealone

thoughts…

I could not speak,
So I dipped my soul in ink.

I could not feel,
So I hunted throughout
The land of music.

I could not see,
So I prayed
Within the deepest temples
Of Gods gardens.

Like so I listened
To my rose,
From a thousand miles away.

My elegy births a war

Though it conceived

An idea of hope.

And we wondered,

‘What was beautiful?’ ,

Growing through the loom

Of a departed life.

What was beautiful?

It was hope,

To be free of wants

And profits of our souls.

And come to me truth,
Even as the sweetest sorrow,
That a morning
May be free tomorrow.

A stanza for thought.