Withered Whisper
In the sky suffused with joy of my fervent freedom,
I let the beguiled soul’s enticed songbird fly high,
glide in the spring-sent sensuous rippling breeze,
bringing your rose-imbued fleeting scent to me.
Drifting in your splendor I sing the song of longing,
until the splitting thunder storm of strife surges in
from your misty horizon, receding to obscurity,
wrenching desertion crushes the wings of love.
The crippled bird folds the crumpled wings,
sorely wrinkled like the wilted summer flower.
My quelled mind endures the twinge of loneliness
in the wrecked nest built of brittle twigs of emotion.
Seeing the end of my futile flight you'll remember,
I’m the broken bird lost in the depth of blue oblivion,
regrets trying to fly in the shifting sky of your illusion,
the hurt of the broken wings turns to withered whisper.
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