The violins are playing their favourite symphony tonight.
The same four bars, a repeated melody;
One so familiar they no longer need to see the notes,
Only to feel them dance
A fusion of opposing keys
All headed in the same direction
Bows slicing the air with fervour
We’ve been here before
Sinisters sound echo in my head
Their subtle forte consuming my being
I no longer wish to feel the notes
Only to see it end
Bows are placed on the stands
The violins have stopped,
Yet the metronome continues to drip onto the counter
the notes continue to dance in the rain
The violins played their favourite symphony tonight.
I wish I had the strength for it to be their last
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 12:26 AM UTC
The violins are playing their favourite symphony tonight.
The same four bars, a repeated melody;
One so familiar they no longer need to see the notes,
Only to feel them dance
A fusion of opposing keys
All headed in the same direction
Bows slicing the air with fervour
We’ve been here before
Sinisters sound echo in my head
Their subtle forte consuming my being
I no longer wish to feel the notes
Only to see it end
Bows are placed on the stands
The violins have stopped,
Yet the metronome continues to drip onto the counter
the notes continue to dance in the rain
The violins played their favourite symphony tonight.
I wish I had the strength for it to be their last
