Poetry

Anirudh Singh


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25 november 2011

Windsong

Hear her roar,
in darker dreaming.
On moonshadow nights,
Red starlight gleaming,
Echoing, reeling.
Hear her whisper,
Songs a thousand and one,
Sway, if you can find it,
Rhythm, feeling.

The flow and the current,
Breathing eternal time's tale.
From ages past to rumored future
Her songs stll hail,
Ear to the wind,
You strain to hear,
Faint nothings,
from another year.
Until the stars like dust,
Burst and shimmer,
And the echoes of the wind,
grow louder, clearer.

Windsong true,
Breathe to me again,
Speak to me of mysteries,
And beats of rain.
Of deep places that still whistle,
That haunted tune,
forgotten by all,
Yet forgotten too soon. 






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