Prelude Poem by aric wilsie

...but the truth is...
That this
Being the first...
in a long time
leaves wonder
With this
minor realism told
Can a heart
still be admired?
And if not
than what do
maidens eyes
ponder
As they sing
a deep
blue song
behind crystal
clear skies
Love is a pen
and God
a guilty hand
woefully writing
a fallen angels
saga
Perchance...
a dream?
...or...
a disciples legacy
Now a
long warm wind
from a
scholars mouth
Barely audible
with disdain
ends it all