My silver flute plays
A ghostly tune.
Haunting, familiar,
A wolf to the moon.
My amber violin,
Sings all alone.
Seeping through my blood,
Chilling to the bone.
My bear-skin beat,
Echoes and drums.
Hollow, somber,
It pounds and hums.
Ghostly tunes.
YOU ARE READING
The Poems of Far Away
PoesiNot everyone has time for poetry. I know that. I respect that. If you really don't want to read this, it's okay with me. You can just leave. It's fine. But if you're still here, I would wish you could try to read these poems. Not everyone reads the...
