He could see the notes.
The colors they leave behind,
The presence of their warmth.
They danced before his eyes,
Whispering their sweet melodies.
Laughter underneath his fingers,
Coaxing them out from their hiding place.
Music was his muse
In the ungodly hours of the night.
She danced with him under the moonlight.
Her voice a soothing lullaby
Quieted the demons in his mind.
And yet
the voices were
too loud.
Fear took hold of
his gut.
Guilt tripped him in
his feet.
He begged Darkness
"Leave me alone."
Shadows wrapped around
his wrists.
Music grew quiet.
Silence reigned
like fermata
on an
indefinite rest.
He closed his eyes.
He covered his ears.
He shut the lid.
The music stopped.
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
He could see the notes.
The colors they leave behind,
The presence of their warmth.
They danced before his eyes,
Whispering their sweet melodies.
Laughter underneath his fingers,
Coaxing them out from their hiding place.
Music was his muse
In the ungodly hours of the night.
She danced with him under the moonlight.
Her voice a soothing lullaby
Quieted the demons in his mind.
And yet
the voices were
too loud.
Fear took hold of
his gut.
Guilt tripped him in
his feet.
He begged Darkness
"Leave me alone."
Shadows wrapped around
his wrists.
Music grew quiet.
Silence reigned
like fermata
on an
indefinite rest.
He closed his eyes.
He covered his ears.
He shut the lid.
The music stopped.
A musician without music is as good as dead
