Harpers of My Heartstrings

The strings of my heart are pulled taut like a bow A tension within sourced deep down below Too many odd dreams, inside me it seems, Their wretched whispers, a bleak audio They reach out and grasp my heartstrings impure Why do they all hold so much allure? All of them mine, but there’s not enough time To give to all of my thoughts so obscure. My head starts to pound, my mind now goes numb, A song of discord, my dreams start to strum Upon my heartstrings, and sprouting black wings Flitter the flutterbies; Wingbeat to the drum Out the window, a fell wind on the chimes, My dreams are ill-lit like a forest of pines, Yet never unknown, for they are my own, Seasoned and flavored with hemlock and thyme The wind is now roaring in the twilight I suffer the scourge each sleepless night All the long while, my throat fills with bile For flutterbies flit, the devious blights My dreams won’t let go of heartstrings so grim Plucking and playing, live life to their whim I haven’t the strength to battle at length Thus I hearken to their dissonant hymn.