It used to be a rumor.
Something spoken of in whispers.
A fairy tale, or fanciful dreaming,
Of something that once was, but never to be.
A song in the distance,
Sung beautifully by extinct voices.
And the thought that what if….
But no.
Just because I hear it,
Doesn’t mean it’s so.
And I’d holler at the mountains,
To surrender the source.
Yet my muse remained
A rumor.
And tides passed,
The call never hindered, but grew.
I ran,
Screaming now at these mountains.
The precipices of my anguish,
That hid my light!
“Give her up, you cliffs and peaks”!
“I need you”!
“I’ve longed every moment that I couldn’t hear you”!
“Hold me again, with your song”.
Exhausted.
Crumpled and Weary, I relent.
Than a voice…”Love”
“I have always been, ”
“Did you not hear my song”?
I replied “hear”? “No”,
“I’ve felt it and breathed it”.
“Knelt before it and drowned in it”,
“Made it my crusade to live for it.”
“My greatest Love, ”
“I’ve heard with my soul.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i have 400 poems and or songs and i want some info o want can i do with them csny701yahoo