She Flew So Gentle
She flew so gentle, like a dove in spring
Asleep while bearing my memory
I drift her soul into my dreams
And follow through with my heart, it seems
I am the one who let her go
Fly, fly, fly away
My sweet, sweet love whose tender soul
Once chained me to the light of day
Last night she cried her heart out for
A moment to steal away my pain
Then flew so gentle, like a dove in spring
Never to return again
"A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music... and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: "Sing for us soon again;" that is as much as to say, "May new sufferings torment your soul." ~Soren Kierkegaard
Hi
I really liked the last four lines of your poem.
"Last night she cried her heart out for
A moment to steal away my pain
Then flew so gentle, like a dove in spring
Never to return again"
i'm interested about him letting her go, and her chaining him. loved the flying and dream imagery
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