PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My heart and this piano become sonorous,

soothing to the soul yet painfully true.

The pressure I apply to the white, glossy

piano keys reaps the sorrows of a distant past,

of pilfered time.

Morbid I feel showered by moonbeam chagrins.

The notes mellifluous, a masterpiece of

Beethoven's song, are played with dexterity.

Into the fathomless sorrows of my essence,

nothing flourishes more than bloody, thorned

roses glistening frostily underneath a decaying

and waning moon.

Beautiful, however fragile in short-lived existence,

juxtaposed, crammed, in a sea of florid sceneries.

Slowly pitiable they wilt shriveling up in despair

gravid in tumultuous foreboding.

Never can it be a glassy forever.

A dreamy moonscape visualizes

in the clouded, rational mind.

Sacred and holy is the psyche

where I gravitate towards the Moon's pull.

O dear Luna, carry up my song.  Elevate it.

Amplify its bittersweet tones to the world

outside these four walls that trigger

my own heart ache...

an impetus to misunderstood sadness.