He reminded me of a song;
No words but pure symphonies —
Only the strumming and plucking
Of the strings of the guitar.
Tragically and harmoniously beautiful,
He was the solace of my melancholy —
Every part of his angelic wholeness
Filled with wonder and all things lovely.
He fitted perfectly, in my empty spaces,
Lyrics unsung and words unspoken.
And with every breath he exhaled,
He filled my heart to its brim.
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC
He reminded me of a song;
No words but pure symphonies —
Only the strumming and plucking
Of the strings of the guitar.
Tragically and harmoniously beautiful,
He was the solace of my melancholy —
Every part of his angelic wholeness
Filled with wonder and all things lovely.
He fitted perfectly, in my empty spaces,
Lyrics unsung and words unspoken.
And with every breath he exhaled,
He filled my heart to its brim.
