Melancholy And Violins

MELANCHOLY AND VIOLINS

Huddled in my silence in the moments in-between.
Discovering the love I see was never meant to dance with me
and could not be my queen...
Melancholy drapes itself upon me like a shroud.
It wraps itself around me tight, annihilating morning's light,
a cloying, clinging cloud.

Stilled the song now, torn the poem, we'd just begun to write!
My heart bereft your tender sigh kneels here between the earth and sky,
somewhere 'twixt day and night...
Melancholy- ancient Greek. An ancient Tragedy.
Yet not so ancient after all as here and now it casts its pall:
a bile-filled, churning sea!

Drifting in this maelstrom. Sink or Swim? I cannot choose.
Perhaps 'tis best, when all is said, to let love lie there cold and dead
between the silent pews...
I could never see your truth, nor harmonize your song.
Was I the weak link in our chain, or you? And tell me, what's the gain
in love that goes so wrong?

Huddling still in silence, eyes closed tightly 'gainst the Dark,
against my want, against my will, against my clinging to love's chill,
I cannot help but hark...
'Tis a mournful violinist come to take my hand.
Unsought, unwelcome! Even so, the soothing sounds within me flow
and bid me: Up now. Stand.

Whence such music comes I cannot guess nor ever ken.
Mayhap from Heaven's gate above, or just a remnant of lost love,
it bids me: Stand again.
Tenderly I bid Adieu to you my love, now gone.
With saddened heart and weeping eyes, I turn away from where love dies
and walk towards the dawn...