Symphony


There, as if drawn by the orchestral notes of despair
Where strings are the echoes of confidence never reclaimed
Violins strung with the promise of pain in the air
And played with a bow that could never be tamed
For eternity built it with only a strand of your hair

I, as the listener, lingered where longing provoked
The somber refrain of the melody best never heard
Cellos were playing the darkest and deepest of notes
A cadence of crying that carefully lured
Me to temples, where tired and tearful, I tragically spoke

There, in the chamber, were tapestries painted of you
And organs were weeping the hymns of your final farewell
Timpanis were pulsing – the beat of my heart as you flew
And left on my lips were the words in a swell
A crescendo intended, now suddenly hollow and few

I, as the watcher, was singing the last of my songs
Where notes are the humming of rain in the days that I wait
Trumpets of tragedy, mournfully playing along
And all that I have are the words I create
In a symphony where you were music – and words don’t belong

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3 thoughts on “Symphony

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