The Heartist

Wearily plucking at the strings of her harp

dreaming of the notes she played

when her true love passed her by

and whispered not a word

to her lonesome heart

for love had departed

and the sun had set

on their interwoven joy

Her tears rained down

as the staccato tones

reigned over the unfinished gloom

Long and forlorn was the melancholic

melody of the lady and her harp.





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