The band whose playing gave her two hours’ bliss
before had to depart. So quiet fell.
Her soul, bereft, trod graves in music-less
accompaniment. A clarion bell,
a voice like no other, cut through the night.
A soprano singing; the wind sighing–
a sweet duet of nature, life and light.
She sang of a place beyond all telling,
a place ‘cross distant seas called Eversong.
Her song continued ’til night spent itself.
and the graveyard’s souls would fly to her song.
She bid souls to gather at the seas’ shelf.
Their bodies left to rot in graves that lie.
They rose on the wings of a song to fly.
The second sonnet in the crown of sonnets I am doing for this week’s Stomp Prompt: soul
Read the first sonnet of the crown of sonnets, Soul Walking, here.