Yiruma
The piano quietly drifts along,
As another beauty quietly drifts from my life…
The time is coming to an end,
The song;
I wish I had the words,
To say…
Goodbye…
But the instrument has nothing written upon the sheet.
My heart a thesaurus,
Dictionary,
Interwoven within.
Stitched together with silent screams…
I cannot help but think something is missing.
I am missing.
I wish I went missing.
I have no Mrs.,
So I don’t have anything…
From cradle to grave,
It has always been pain.
Suffering is all that I know.
No foot-print in history will remain,
Once I close the book on this unwritten story…
A biography will be left empty,
For there will be nobody left to write this…
Your life.
I have no light,
Sitting at my side…
As I write on late into the ten thousandth night,
Alive,
I wish the bulb would just go out…
But still I survive,
On scraps and pieces,
Dreams and wishes,
Morsel’s and minutes.
I am skin on bones.
No meat on the fishes,
To feed the cat,
That I do not have…
I think it is time,
To drop the axe.
Into the void,
No looking back…
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.