The Magic Flute

rebellion_in_sanity

The scratchy vinyl kept spinning,  
The Magic Flute played;
yet, clock announced its heartbeat
loud, the ticking.  

 

The girl, 
planted a searching kiss on your lips.  
She wondered if you, 
her fiancé,  
loved her still.  

 

Love, a stranger to you,  
the kisses, you couldn't feel—  
on the canvas of your mind,
you started reliving a scene:
pallors on those women lying still.  

 

The storm,  
gave way to the calm.
You asked yourself:  
would you ever feel life  
at the sound of
a woman's beating heart?  
Or were you doomed to see  
the knife piercing their bodies  
again and again,  
as the blood spurted out?  

 

A confusion,
who you were.
They died with tears in their eyes
but left you wishing 
you didn't survive.

 

Who killed them? couldn't recall.  
The killer's face,  
only a fragment—  
the face was calm.  
The knives plunged lovingly,  
as if he was making love.  
No elation in his face,  
only the finale,
the only outcome of permanence
of an all-consuming love.  

 

Magic Flute played-
the music took you back
to that scene,
where their lifeless bodies laid
and it played.

 

There, she kissed again-
you felt an urge to make love.
Yet, the perfume she wore...
that place where they died,
smelled different...
Frozen:
which love-
like the killer's?

 

The Magic Flute played.....

  • Author: Rebellion In Sanity (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 20th, 2025 09:13
  • Comment from author about the poem: Can someone, battered by traumatic experience, ever return to normal life?
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 8
  • Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    The magic flute plays throughout this poem and the queen of the night sings to Pamina as does Papageno. Can a person recover from trauma depends upon the trauma and the person and maybe the music. Very well done my friend

    • rebellion_in_sanity

      Thank you for your support and kind words πŸ™.

      • sorenbarrett

        Most welcome Rebellion

      • Tristan Robert Lange

        My friend, I’ve walked that place where music should comfort and instead becomes the trigger...where a kiss claws open memory rather than closeness. You put that trauma cleanly on the page; it’s brutal and true. πŸŒΉπŸ–€πŸ™πŸ•―οΈπŸ¦β€β¬›

        • rebellion_in_sanity

          Thank you very much for your support πŸ™. Appreciate your help.



        To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.