Leaves in mist
Leaves in the ditty overturn,
mouth to mouth, lonesome death sung—
she calms her wild heart wrenching,
leaves in the tainted lushes,
Sigh and weep, wheel drive even
rain spikes, drench marble tombstone.
Leaves of autumn balm, wither
quickly and winter kindled—
youth of beauty, thrashed kindness.
Leaves of foggy grey beliefs,
power of wreath, pleasures in bell
chants, "brightness peeled her pale skin!"
Leaves, mourn with bitter love— clay
lullaby hush her to sleep,
pity form in gravel hard.
━━━━━━━━━━
Highly inspired by the Vietnamese poetry style with each line, consisting of seven syllables. I got to know about this only from WinterlyHeights. He writes brilliantly and amazing storyteller.
Although after my little research, found that some English poet's poems have seven syllables too, in each line. Hope it's enjoyable.
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