loridaily

notes from the heart

Lonely Bard

Her heart
beats in time
to funereal drums

The pyre of her love
burns
quiet ritual
of loss
out to sea
again

How many
strains of lamentations
will she write
in one lifetime
words
spill like tears
alkaline white
drying in splotches

In their grief
she listened
now in hers
she sees their
backs

The lonely bard
dips her pen
and finds
her own
solace

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