Fragment: A Tale Untold
One sung of thee who left the tale untold, Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting; Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold, Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
One sung of thee who left the tale untold, Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting; Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold, Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting.
A voice once sang about someone who walked away from their own story, leaving it broken off and incomplete. The singer may have tried to capture this person, but the absence at the center is what lingers. Shelley reaches for two images that feel like a slow, quiet letdown.
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