The Song I Will Never Sing by Fernstrike

The Song I Will Never Sing

Read The Song I Will Never Sing

I remember this —

 

 

 

Some wield swords and some wield bows;

 

Some make diadems to capture stars

 

In forsaken gems; and some yet still

 

Make rings to capture minds and souls.

 

 

 

But I am the wordsmith, the song-smith,

 

The letter-maker - a creator of soft power.

 

Mine is the province of the heart -

 

Of sentiment and gentle art.

 

 

 

I can spin love’s supple body with words

 

And speak its language with a lute;

 

Can brush its hair with sound

 

And stitch its girdle with a melody.

 

 

 

But brutes of dirt can come within

 

My Girdle here, slip through the net,

 

Get blessing and joy that ought to’ve been mine,

 

As if claiming love given could never be sin.

 

 

 

I remember her —

 

 

 

She did not need cursed gems to capture

 

Silver stars; they knotted themselves

 

In her hair, clung to the night that

 

Fell, day or dark, down her pale back.

 

 

 

And when she looked at me - she smiled -

 

The world was a song I could never sing;

 

It had me weeping, slipping on spilled milk -

 

But she never slipped - she danced springing to my songs.

 

 

 

Then she made a mistake, and I made one too -

 

And I think she knew, and could almost absolve me.

 

The next time, I saved her from herself.

 

It was love and fear, not jealousy.

 

 

 

But she hated me, and the night was starless,

 

And the love was voiceless and hearts grew cold.

 

She broke the chains and fled beyond,

 

For that lowly soul, he meant that much.

 

 

 

And I chased - there were wolves - there was darkness -

 

I ran, and I tried to find her light -

 

And I lost her - I lost me - I lost my way -

 

The mountains were blue with the dying day.

 

And I suppose I'd never meant that much anyway.

 

 

 

I remember —

 

 

 

I am the wordsmith, the song-smith,

 

The heart-breaker - a creator of misery.

 

I sing beside dark lakes and cold shores now,

 

And the stars wheel nightly overhead, un-eternal,

 

 

 

Mocking me.

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Chapter End Notes

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