~This is a symphony of Poe, the poet that inspired me to write~
Song of Israfel
Let the solemn song
of body and soul be sung
in that it haunts the lone regions
Where the moon never beams.
Spirits moving musically,
resignedly beneath the sky
in gray woods
of passion accurst.
To the trumpeter of the angels, Israfel,
his lips and all thy melody
along with his soul
gives me sigh for sigh.
But I will half believe
that the wild light of his most exalted station,
while the hours are breathing faint and low,
was fraught with mortal melody.
© Copyright 2016 dhole. All rights reserved.
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