I have never heard a more beautiful sound,
than the song she sang as I fell asleep.
It illuminated every star in the sky,
and captured my every dream.
It sounded like the brush strokes that paint the sunset,
and winter icicles melting.
I heard the sound of tears rolling down stained cheeks,
and the ghostly wail of wind through the trees.
That haunting music followed me into sleep,
and I was blinded by what I couldn’t see,
but the soundscape was ethereal, pulsing with every heartbeat.
It was the sound of her heart and she had given it to me.
I heard every high, every low, and every sad silence.
The sound of her soul was greater than any symphony.
Somehow the notes became me, they changed me,
and I could finally hear my own quiet.
I have never sang a more beautiful song,
than the song I sang as she fell asleep.
I had never scrawled the contours of my soul into composition,
but I did it for her, because she brings beauty.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC
I have never heard a more beautiful sound,
than the song she sang as I fell asleep.
It illuminated every star in the sky,
and captured my every dream.
It sounded like the brush strokes that paint the sunset,
and winter icicles melting.
I heard the sound of tears rolling down stained cheeks,
and the ghostly wail of wind through the trees.
That haunting music followed me into sleep,
and I was blinded by what I couldn’t see,
but the soundscape was ethereal, pulsing with every heartbeat.
It was the sound of her heart and she had given it to me.
I heard every high, every low, and every sad silence.
The sound of her soul was greater than any symphony.
Somehow the notes became me, they changed me,
and I could finally hear my own quiet.
I have never sang a more beautiful song,
than the song I sang as she fell asleep.
I had never scrawled the contours of my soul into composition,
but I did it for her, because she brings beauty.