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By Briana Kassia Date: 2011 Jan 14 Comment on this Work [[2011.01.14.04.54.13658]] |
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When the words that leak forth are a poisoned froth of malice and fear a fragmented song How long does she hold her grip? How long till you sluice her taint from your heart, till you free your self, retrieve your gifts from the slurry, the slag, the refuse heap rinse them clean and repair them? She is not you, and she is not your muse She is nothing anymore a dim and dank memory, a scar over the damage done. Heal, singer. Let it go, let her go and free your self. Free your voice |