literature

Ballad of the Soul -english-

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Literature Text

As darkness of sorrow envelops the heart

And chain of memories broken

Light of hope extinguishes

And leaves the heart fragmented

 

Love, it is a fickle thing

And not without cruel humor

One day bright, filled with happiness

Next mocking, dead and barren

 

But perhaps it cycles natural

Homaging the four seasons

This theory is what keeps me going

When else I would surrender

 

Like spring it develops cherished feelings

Intense and unexpected

Flowers bud and trees they bloom

Promises of yet to come

 

Summer comes to few and far

The matured results of spring

Buds and blooms yield fruits of pleasure

And chapel bells finally ring

 

Autumn explodes with brilliant hues

Most beautiful of the four

Summers fever cooled, all now in balance

And the harvest of love abound

 

But cruel times makes all things pass

For the unlucky…

For the unwise…

For those who don’t know what they have

 

Not until it’s too late

 

Winter… it freezes the soul

Which was beautiful now lies dead

Pleasure turns to pain excess

And life slowly loses all worth

 

But hope will never die to those who know where to look

 

My life was once a firefly, wandering

Love turned it radiant as the sun

Seasons have changed, it’s winterdark

My life reduced to a candlelight in times square

 

But perhaps these metaphors are better than I thought

Perhaps the short days lengthen

Perhaps the winter turns to spring anew

Perhaps… the night is darkest, just before the dawn

 

Hope

Owossic version here: [link]

This is a poem of sorts that I wrote in jail. It's not supposed to rhyme. It is a pure expression of my emotions when I wrote it. I think you call that freeform.

If not, you can't really call it a story, so I'm going with poem.
© 2011 - 2024 Silverthe-Dragon
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