Vincent Silvertop - Cosmos

Shepherd, the sun tunes the forest poplars, and your lyre.

Rumours in the hills calm you, and a bright exotic bird charms you to a place of the blown candle were she said forever.

A precious jewell that travels the cosmos.

Your worship is no glory.

Your gallery is a laberinth to the abyss.

Temptation may not let me hear the music

Vincent Silvertop

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cosmos-8/