Long haired lothario
Marry your thoughts
On the mountainside air
Three chord fares us
Blaring the night siren.
Peaceful player
Passionate pray he
May we stand to
The soul of the yesterdays
Fallen prisoners.
Lead wired walking
Talking the nonsense
Of sequential magic
Tragic the soul
Who does not listen.
Clattering magic
The shimmering strings
Stirring the airwaves
We behave-somewhat
Asking for more.
Therapy withward
It takes three chords
To hoarsely enter
The matters we mattered
Brightly.
Bio: Eoghan Lyng is an Irish writer, who writes when he travels. Writing between Cork, Madrid, Prague and Cambridge, Lyng’s work can be read in Vada Magazine, Outlaw Poetry, Poets Reading The News, and Spillwords Poetry.
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