The weeping willow

beholds my silence.


To be spoken in tongue;

“She is my earth,

my birth and my mother,

so beautiful and young.”

“Hold my night”, I told my stars.

With my arrival

we shall win our wars.


To what you owe

and to what I have given.

Represents our past,

your future and the unforgiven.

With my last breath I flee

as you feel the waves

linger under my sea.

Cherish my void

beneath your agony.


Hail to my sanctuary,

Alas; “hereby my death

quavers under your skin with glee.

That darkness, just over my soul,

screams for our night to be free.”


“Oh’ father,” I spoke

“What was my night?

When was my morning?

Where shall my dim go?”


My creation created light,

endless songs and mourning

behind that fright.

Now we wake with that moon

hidden without that bright.

Underneath the willow

we flee and fight.

Now open my door,

follow my path

and feel your plight.  


13 responses to “‘Quaver,”

    • Much blessings, Reagan ❤️🙏🏽 thank you so much for reading my work and for the follow! I’m glad you loved it, especially that part. As I always say; I do my best!


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