Like ghostly melodies,
Travelling the air,
Caressing the souls,
Yet none can ever see them.
****
Whirling in a glare,
Wings unseen to mortals,
She pierces all the portals,
Of a heart I never sealed.
****
Yet of bones and flesh she's made,
And like all of us she'll fade,
Leaving nada for a heir,
But a sour tune that'd allayed.
****
But until then,
A net none shall toss at her,
A row none shall aim at her,
Her harp's tunes I still need,
For a soul that’d always bow to her.
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