Unsung...

The poet died, so very young
amid echoes of a passioned voice
a voice gone still, its songs unsung

now lost in the visions he'd brung
the sadness revealed in his choice
the poet died, so very  young.

An agonistes, wildly flung
upon his petard, was slowly hoist
a voice gone still, its songs unsung

Did the sweetest tones of his  tongue
find a needy world's blank invoice?
The poet died, so very young

as if truth burned, deeply stung
cleaved cheeks,and left his eyes too moist
a voice gone still, its songs unsung.

like Homer's flawed heroes, come unstrung
a love spilled in worldly rejoice--
the poet died, so very young--
a voice gone still, its songs unsung.




in memory of Julian-- Victory Gin