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plerwill

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

1 poem·Since March 2016
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The Musical Sonnet

March 8, 2016

Surrounded by oceans of frothy blue,

all alone upon heartless, golden sand,

I sit.  There is not a soul to speak to

out here, but it is not an empty land.

 

Through the mountains, the trees, and every thing,

my song echoes like the bells of a church.

The pure, unmeasured bliss is why I sing

out my soul instead of trying to search

 

for a way back home.  Music is my home.

It is my most true and intimate friend,

the light in dark, comfort when I’m alone.

If it is with me, my joy cannot end.

 

So ‘alone’ I may be, but I am strong

for no one can take it from me: my song.

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