Ode
Ode to Dissonant Chords (A short composite)
I
For the beauty of the interlacing,
Dissonant and blissful calls of the wild-
Each tune for subtle ears an embracing.
Grasping the hands of both old and kind child.
Whimpering voice of how you chill the world-
Singing sonnets of both home and exiled.
Grasping the oaken woods of the old gnarled,
Kissing the broken waves of the new tears,
Holding each suckling sweet babe up curled,
Riveting up each maidens wind filled hair,
Embodying the core of crying men-
Even the joy can be heard in despair.
The dreadful calling of your holy sin,
Can be withheld in a winterfell wren.
The part of this ode may be small but as I worked alone I am very proud of this portion that could become a beautiful full ode. I might actually work on this on my own and turn it into a full fledged piece. I have never been a fan of odes, though with this project it has become- if not a passionate but- a friendly relationship between myself and Ode formatted poetry. Though only limited amounts of the population may understand the reasoning I hope the virtuoso individuals understand my meaning and the non-musical individuals appreciate the words and rhythms chosen.
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