Merited Fiddle
Upon a beguiling, ocean course,
end for end, we bear up round,
a deathly toll, on path unfound,
reversing a wreak and recourse.
Travel with me far to your stare,
all of our promises up to extend,
all is possible on this time bend,
as we route on a dreamed fare.
Merited fiddle is the winds' virtue;
a night scope, snow icy gloves,
her Pythian oracle, from aboves,
ocean trips of dawn shine true.
A holy maiden, cared to caress,
our images of mind that escaped,
as then her wraith form draped,
a song on winds of deathliness.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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