Nightingale


You are such a potent wine, my friend.
To escape your withdrawal effects,
tomorrow I will drink in excess.

I was a harp you immaculately
plucked at will.
Your score, the nightingale song within
notes composed to imprison
and bear me wings.
Oh, if only they could hear how it sings!

I am now beyond parched.
My strings left untouched.
You are no longer an oasis, my friend,
but a mirage soon coming to an end.

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4 thoughts on “Nightingale

  1. You are quite possibly one of the most talented poets I have ever read… and I have only said this to 3 other wordpress poets in my 6 or so years on here.. so take that for what it’s worth. 🙂

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