Freitag, Mai 25

Forlorn Girl

"When will my head be at rest
Onto a silent, caring joy?
Have I had yet the very best?
Is there more then to deploy?"
And so she cried, for night and day;
Her masters would not let her be.
It seemed though too wrong to say
Since her eyes the mind deceived.
Alas, she wept in restless grief
A silvery tear earthward then fell;
And with response, she found relief.
The sole aim: her words to tell.

Keine Kommentare:

Kommentar veröffentlichen

Follower