Shafts of light streamed through the half opened blinds
The moon in its brimful bloom,
Its silver light washed up the room
Reflecting the light into my eyes.
The faint sound of the gramophone playing Fritz Kreisler’s Liebesleid (Love's Sorrow).
The walls threw back the echoes of the melody!
I didn’t know why tears were gushing along with it.
In a room full of white.
With a music so rich.
A solitary night.
A solitary heart.
Why always play Love’s Sorrow when you also have Love’s Joy?
Maybe deep down
My heart knew the cavernous melancholy henceforth.
A.Hana
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 10:16 AM UTC
Shafts of light streamed through the half opened blinds
The moon in its brimful bloom,
Its silver light washed up the room
Reflecting the light into my eyes.
The faint sound of the gramophone playing Fritz Kreisler’s Liebesleid (Love's Sorrow).
The walls threw back the echoes of the melody!
I didn’t know why tears were gushing along with it.
In a room full of white.
With a music so rich.
A solitary night.
A solitary heart.
Why always play Love’s Sorrow when you also have Love’s Joy?
Maybe deep down
My heart knew the cavernous melancholy henceforth.
A.Hana
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