I found this, going through some old files, hope you like it.


Mingled with verses,

Touched by the heart-threading prose,

I’ve heard your chants,

I’ve fallen over the worn lyrics once.

The fragility of each fiercely pinched in me,

Yet I wondered in distress,

Why have you come by troubadour of winter and fall?

Guilt has come to you,

As a rainfall in the sultry summer.

When you hiked away to praise

A new young emperor of a forgotten kingdom,

I stopped listening to the words

You once devotedly halted in behalf of a dream

Upon my feet.

Summon the grace of earthly forgiveness, troubadour!

Beg for what the divine grants, o’ silly troubadour!

I have passed by the world,

Yet far from the divine once and once more.

Don’t take that guitar of yours

Which killed long ago the idealistic hearts of a king and his love.

Roll up back your tongue

And take the prose of yours

To a knight and queen who rest in amity at last.





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