Playing sad tears from the bow of horse hair you wield so well. Strings hear the echoes of your many sorrows, as they become vibrations and sounds, to ripple along your ivory skin. Memories of your lovers flow into the wood to haunt the many players of your violin.
The air is fresh upon her heart;
the sea feels cool today.
She’s looking out and back again,
for the world is different.
The air is full of silent screams;
the sea hears them well.
She’s horror-struck at the sound,
for death is so close now.
Sorrow fills the air as you juggle the pots and pans of despair.
Cobwebs fill your mind and the mood is sombre.
In amongst all the banging and clanging, she hears those words again.
She hears those words you spoke when you said, “There’s no ice cream in the freezer“.
Running to nowhere or
somewhere, she feels alone.
The moon is full tonight,
yet it shines strange upon her sorrow.
the woods give you so much love.
Once trees provide a seat,
she looks to the blood red moon.
She is sad no more.