To Be Unspoken

24 Apr


Words may often fail me,
heeding innocuous temper;
a boldness within my soul,
which, by its own standards,
would forgive feign reasoning,
and by design, be uttered as sigh.

This thought then is not bold,
but tempered steel now wrought,
that, by its incarnation, ’tis hurried;
and with abandon, flees from lips,
as bartered voice, breaking silence,
’til the words become my very breath.

Leave a comment

Posted by on April 24, 2016 in My Poetry



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: